


The Truth, Part 10

by Seasider



Series: The Truth [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack Treated Seriously, Darth Vader’s A+ Parenting, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Parent Darth Vader, Protective Darth Vader, Stylish Darth Vader, Stylish Luke Skywalker, Sunshine Luke Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25890088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seasider/pseuds/Seasider
Summary: Luke and Vader continue bonding and plot the overthrow, and Luke spends time on the new Executor.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Series: The Truth [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775602
Comments: 75
Kudos: 98





	1. Secrets of the Dressing Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is fluff. Pure, indulgent fluff. Lots of fluff. Really fluffy. Luke & Vader sugar.

“Are you ready?”

“I've been ready since I got here.” Luke was bouncing with the effort of suppressing his excitement. The beautiful ship was finally completed. “Time for a test fly— finally! The acid rain won’t hurt the ship, will it?”

“No. Now, boy, are you going to get on the ship or stand here asking questions for the rest of the day?”

He grinned. The only word he noticed was— _“Boy?_ Really?” Then he added: “After you, your lordship.”

The cockpit was big enough to hold them comfortably, even when one of them was Darth Vader. “I’ll take her out,” Vader stated.

“Are you sure it’s a ‘her’?”

“Ships are always female.”

“My x-wing isn’t. Well… not that I have an x-wing now. But I’ll get it back! Anyway, it’s… asexual.”

His dad sighed.

“Remember the first time you took me flying?” Luke wondered.

“Of course I remember. You are a natural pilot. You linked with the Force and flew as only a Je— Force user can. As I can. Now,” Vader said, obviously trying to cover his slip, “are you doing the preflight review with me or would you rather be unprepared when you’re flying alone?”

“When would I ever be alone in your wonderful ship?” he grumbled, pretending that he hadn’t almost heard ‘Jedi” and obediently began checking the switches. 

“You will take it with you when you leave.”

“Take what with me?” he asked absently, then looked at the Dark Lord. “You mean the _ship?”_

“Of course the ship.”

“But why?”

His dad chuckled. “You truly are strange. Because I built it for you.”

“You did?” It thrilled him for a moment, but then he wondered why his dad would give away something that was so special to him. “This isn’t like an inheritance, is it? You’re not going to do something dangerous, are you? Like taking on him by yourself? You’re not planning on dying, are you?”

“I am not. I am, however, equipping you with everything necessary to ensure your survival, and a fast, well-armed ship is one of those necessities. And now— since you’ve done so well on the pre-flight checks, if you wish, you may take her out, Sir Garven.”

Oh yeah! “YAHOOOO!” he shouted as they blasted away from the base.

# # #

“I wonder what I should name it.” They arrived safely back in the hangar after a too-short flight, and he felt the heat of the engine against his face as he bent down.

“Perhaps ‘Yahoo’.” His father folded his arms. “We need to be in hyperspace to check that ion thruster. After the parts have cooled down, we’ll take it out again.”

“Good idea. If I’m flying it back to the base, I want the engine to work,” he said drily. “I hope the Alliance lets me keep it.”

“What?” Vader sounded shocked. “It is _yours,_ of _course_ you will keep it! Unless they are the thieves and scoundrels I suspect them to be.”

“Daa-aad.” He clicked his tongue. “I just meant— Well. Anyway, should I fly this in battle or just use an x-wing?”

“X-wing,” his dad said promptly. “No sense in risking unnecessary damage to Yahoo. You will need her when you return here or when we face Palpatine.”

“Okay.” He sat on the work bench. “I don’t even know if the Alliance will let me fly again.”

“Luke.” Vader sat on the other bench. “You have so much potential. They would be fools to keep you out of the sky.”

“If they even _keep_ me at all. Why would they? You’re not paying them now.”

“You are the bridge between them and me. They must keep you and treat you respectfully.”

“Great. So I’m just the _bridge_ to you.” Dejected, he put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, staring at the deck. “I wish I was worth something on my own.”

“You are, but you must _show_ them. Demonstrate your worth. You destroyed the Death Star, but they don’t know how to use you. _Show_ them. Use your skills. You are far superior to simple mortals. Stop restraining yourself.”

“But how? I’m not supposed to attract _his_ attention, and if I use the Force, he’ll find out eventually, won’t he?”

“We will reconsider your status, and I will work with you on deeper meditation techniques. There is much you need to learn. Let’s save this discussion for tomorrow, because I have something else for us to do.”

“What now?” How could he feel discouraged and interested at the same time? Life was hard. _Nobody ever said life was easy—_ that was Uncle Owen in his head. Luke frowned. He didn’t like thinking about Owen and Beru and what a horrible child he had been to them. Still scowling, he followed his father.

# # #

“They’re here!” His mood brightening, Luke grinned widely at the stack of boxes in the dressing room. “Look at all this— there’s so much!”

“I may have ordered a few additional items for myself.”

“Indeed?” Luke smirked. “I seem to remember you said, ‘Your quest for material items is irrational and inappropriate’... or am I imagining that?”

“You do seem to spend excessively.”

“You're the one who gave me a platinum unlimited line of credit!”

“Guilty as charged. Shall we…?”

Boxes were ripped opened, tissue wrappings tossed aside. Luke found the knee-length black cloak and whirled it around his shoulders. “This will go with everything! Well… when I want to be dressed up. It’s fancier than it looked.”

His father paid no attention; he was busy examining his own purchases. He held up the midnight blue robe.

“That’s gorgeous,” Luke said enviously. Pity that the long sweep of the garment was too much for his height. “Put it on.”

His father hesitated, and Luke wondered if his dad was embarrassed to strip in front of him. After the bacta tank, it was a little late for modesty. However, he could make it easier.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Where would I go?” Vader said with a chuckle, openly enjoying that little joke between them.

He dallied in his quarters, giving his father enough time, before returning with the big box that held the cloaks he’d gotten in Coronet City. He came to an abrupt halt in the doorway of the dressing room. “Wow….”

His dad looked like royalty. Tall, broad-shouldered… the under-tunic tapered in at his waist with criss-crossed bands of black leather, then the robe flared slightly as it draped all the way to the floor. Small silver points highlighted triangular flaps that ran down the center. The pleated collar wrapped around his dad’s neck and shoulders, leaving only his face and the top of his bald head visible. “You need a crown. Then you’d look like a king.”

“You mean an emperor.”

“Uh, yeah, okay, an emperor.” He placed the box on the floor and sat on the padded bench. “This is how you should always dress.”

Vader turned from side to side, checking his profile. “It might hinder fighting.”

“You don’t fight wearing something like this!” Really, it would be great if his dad quit fighting altogether. “You stand in a throne room and people bow and kneel at your feet.”

“How odd, that is exactly what I am hoping for— for you.” Vader gestured to him.

 _For me or_ from _me?_ “I’d look ridiculous in that outfit.” He rose and stood next to his father. “Well, I guess I look kinda princely in this cloak.”

One hand rested on his shoulder. “We look like we belong together,” his dad said, trying and failing to sound light-hearted.

“We do. Emperor and Son.”

There was a pause as they stared at themselves in the mirror. “You belong to me,” Vader said in the odd tone that Luke had heard many times.

A frisson of an indescribable emotion ran through him. “I’m your son,” he corrected uncomfortably.

“You are my _creation.”_ It was a hiss of satisfaction, possessiveness.

Luke was tempted to offer words about his independence and that he wasn’t a possession, but he didn’t want to spoil his father’s contentment. Anakin Vader needed to feel happier and safer, and to understand that he wasn’t alone any longer. There could be no hope of reformation without those feelings.

“Let’s try on some other stuff,” he suggested. “Then you can put this back on later. Did you get something in white?”

“More of a creamy color.” His dad cast another head-to-toe lingering look at his own reflection, then turned away.

Luke did, too, quickly changing into ivory, then found the tan boots that were more of a buff color than they had seemed on the Mini-Luke projection. He pulled them on and stood, stomping to get his heels all the way down. “These are great.” Casting a glance to see that his dad was still occupied and not peeking, he opened the big box and took out his own ivory cape before closing the box again. “What do you think of my materialistic questing results?”

“Superior.” His father reappeared at the mirror wearing an embroidered ivory weskit over sapphire shirt and velvet pants. The shirt sleeves ballooned loosely then tightened from elbow to wrist.

“Where did— When did you order that vest?” Luke yelped. “I love it! I want the shirt! The whole outfit!”

“I ordered more after you went to bed,” Anakin Vader said smugly. “It does look good, doesn’t it.”

Stars! Had Anakin Skywalker been this vain or was it a Vader thing? Although after he thought about it for a half-second, he decided it was a Skywalker Thing. “You look better than me,” he said, a little sulkily.

“And you look good enough to be my son.”

“Oh, for—” Luke rolled his eyes. “Fine, we both look fabulous. Look at my cape.”

“It’s wonderful.” Vader said absently, plucking something off his shoulder. “Another gold sparkle,” he observed with resignation.

Luke grinned and picked up the big box. “Open this. I got you a present! Although,” he added awkwardly, “you paid for it.”

“Of course I did.” Vader put the box on the bench.

“I would’ve if I’d had money of my own.”

“Of course you would have.” His dad parted the wrapping and pulled out the cape. Luke had forgotten how huge it was. “I believe this will actually be long enough.”

 _For now. Until you get shorter legs in your next life,_ Luke thought. “Put it on. We almost match!”

It settled on the broad shoulders. “I have never worn anything with crystals in my entire life.”

“Then it’s high time you did.”

They both stared at the reflection of Vader in white. Luke wondered if his dad’s mind was racing in the same direction as his was— this could be the future. Rid of the helmet, new internal replacements, new lungs… and a more normal human height. A new life. _Their life._

Vader stepped behind him and wrapped his cloak around Luke in a hug until he was just a head sticking up from a sea of white— well, _two_ heads, because his dad’s face was above him. “This is….” Krit, he’d almost said _creepy!_ “... amazing.”

“Yes.” The top head frowned. “I should have hair.”

“Maybe you can have a transplant. Or we can glue on a wig. Although you look good now. Oh— Wait! Don’t go anywhere!”

He raced downstairs again and hurried back, clutching his beloved wrap.

“What is this?”

“A scarf my friend Wes gave me. Watch! It may not go with this fancy outfit, but for your Sithly clothes….” He circled it around Vader’s head and shoulders, tossing the ends back. “See?”

His dad looked skeptical, but said: “I’ll think about something similar.”

“Take this one,” he insisted. “You can get some fancy ones, but this is fine for now.”

“You would give me something from Your Friend Wes? It’s special to you… as _he_ is apparently.”

“You’re much specialer to me.” He pretended not to hear the emphasis. Maybe he had mentioned Janson too often. As possessive as his dad was, he wouldn’t put it past him to try something with Wes. “Take it.”

“No, keep your scarf. It suits you more than me.” As he handed back the wrap, his dad’s face changed into something Luke couldn’t quite describe. Sadder, definitely… but something else, too. Like he’d made a decision. “Come.”

“Where?” He was a step behind his dad at the back of the dressing room. Vader pressed a panel and— “There’s another room here!”

Lights blinked on and Luke stared, not quite comprehending what he was seeing. Colors, silk, velvet, braiding— it looked like a small rainbow. “What is all this?” He reached out, then hesitated. “Can I touch it?”

His dad’s head inclined, and Luke carefully slid the hangers aside. They were _dresses—_ exquisitely made, beautiful— He inhaled sharply. Unless his dad had a secret life, they must be— “Were these my mother’s?”

“Yes. I was… we had a private apartment that no one knew about. I was able… afterward, I was able….”

He nodded, eyes filling with tears that he wiped away so they wouldn't stain the dresses. There weren’t very many— he counted only six. Two silky things that weren’t quite undergarments, but… oh, nightgowns. He felt his father finch inside, so he didn’t touch those again.

There were two garments in rich colors, one maroon, one gold, and everything else was— “So I guess she liked blue?”

“Yes. She said…. Blue was our secret message. She said it reminded her of… my eyes.”

He swallowed, reaching out but not daring to touch the heavy embroidery on some of the pieces. One was— “Oh, this would look great on me!” he blurted, then blushed. “The top, I mean. With pants, I mean. Maybe I could find something like it.”

The full skirt was topped with a dark gray velvet vest with a high collar and a heavily-beaded medallion running down the front. But the sleeves reminded him of his dad’s new shirt. They were gray shot-silk chiffon with metal bands on the upper arms that pulled tight before ballooning out to narrow again into wide cuffs. “She had excellent taste.”

“Yes. When she was queen, her gowns were extraordinary. And she had elaborate headpieces. The sight of her inspired reverence.” Anakin Vader ran his fingers along a silky garment that had no sleeves, just rows of pearls hanging loose at the shoulder. “She often wore this at night... when she was expecting you.” He stared at Luke.

Luke’s breath caught when he looked back, and he tried not to react, but—

 _—his dad’s eyes were blue._ A beautiful cerulean blue.

Did Vader know? Could he feel the difference. Did it mean…?

What _did_ it mean? Was it love, was it Anakin? Did memories of Padme pull the Sith away from his father? He met the pale gaze and held it. Not just their color was different, there was more, something Luke had only glimpsed occasionally during their closest moments. A vulnerability. Sorrow, but… happiness. He smiled.

“I love you, Dad.”

Anakin Vader smiled back. “I know. And I also know that my eyes are blue sometimes. Don’t attach any special significance to that. It’s merely an emotional reaction.”

 _Merely?_ Luke frowned and didn’t respond. He saw a container on the floor that was nearly hidden by the long dresses. “What’s in this?” Maybe headpieces that he could wear.

“I never looked at the contents. Padme had been acquiring things in preparation for our… for your birth. I suppose whatever is in here belongs to you.” He handed Luke the beige box.

It was sealed— no, not sealed. It just had a gray ribbon tied around it, not fancy, a simple bow tied by a slightly clumsy hand. His father.

Luke sat on the bench. His dad joined him, the box resting between them. “Are you sure you want me to open this?”

The smooth bald head bent. “I never thought it would be opened, because there was no possibility…. The one who created it and the one for whom it was meant were both gone.”

“Not any more.” He tugged on the end of the ribbon and it fell off. Luke paused a moment, touching the lid, hoping to feel the presence of his mother. But there was nothing. He opened the box. There was a lot of space left, and he supposed she had planned to acquire many more things before… what happened, happened. He removed the few items one by one, each piece wrapped in silver tissue.

A baby rattle, enameled in cobalt with tiny golden stars scattered on the stem. He chuckled, sending his dad an amused gaze. “It’s like my pajamas!”

“It was a popular pattern in those days.” His dad shrugged. “I remembered.”

“Still is popular, according to me.” A soft, square package revealed an ivory blanket, edged in— yes, deep blue satin with gold stars. This time Luke laughed. “She must have really liked this design!”

“Yes. It was probably not considered appropriate for the clothing of a queen or a senator. Too… frivolous. But perfectly acceptable for a baby.”

Luke wrapped the fuzzy blanket around his neck. “That’s me!” Then he pulled it off. “Actually….” He laid the blanket on top of his dad’s head and tucked it loosely around his throat. “This matches your new clothes.”

Anakin Vader actually laughed and didn’t remove it. Luke smiled.

Next up was a onesie, light gray with tiny rosy animals printed all over.

“Shaak,” his father said helpfully. “Incredibly stupid animals native to Naboo. But fun to ride… for a moment,” he added.

“You mentioned them once before.” The last package was large and squishy, and he knew what it was before he unwrapped it. “How much do you want to bet this is a plushie?”

“I predict you would win that bet.” Choked-off laughter came from his father, and Luke didn’t want to look at him too closely. “Another shaak.”

It would have been an armful for a new baby, and it was still big enough for Luke to clutch against his chest with both arms. “I got a plushie after all.”

“You did.” His father’s fingers tucked under his chin and he lifted Luke’s face. The blue eyes were serious. “Luke… remember this moment. Whatever happens in the future, remember that this is true. This is who we are. This is us. This is our universe alone.”

He nodded, unwilling to ask how anything could change what they were to each other. Because that sort of question could send his father spiraling into scared, dark thoughts. And maybe him, too. “I promise,” he said, and smoothed the baby blanket on his father’s bare head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This is the inspiration for Vader’s new robe (in midnight blue). ](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/starwars/images/e/e8/TionMedonchron.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20070120141520)   
>  [Padme’s packing gown - Luke wants the top for himself (to wear with pants, of course).](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/starwars/images/2/29/PadmePackingDress-DaG.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20070711171733)


	2. At Loggerheads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their time together is running out. On edge, Vader father and son have serious disagreements about their future. In other words—they anger each other as hard and as quickly as they love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of talking. All talking. I’m exhausted. They’re so difficult! Why can’t they be easy?? However, Luke is slowly started to figure out something and so is Vader. Don’t give up on them! (I just said that to myself, too.)

“TwoOneBee, can my da— Lord Vader grow hair?” Luke asked idly as he located the last memory chip he’d wanted and pulled it from FX-6, crushing it between his fingers.

The droid paused in his work. “Where, specifically?”

“What?” Luke blinked. “Oh… on his head.”

“No.” TwoOneBee tilted his chin. “Possibly I could implant hair follicles in his armpits, with the chances of success being approximately 857 to one. Shall I discuss—”

“I don’t think so.” He had a mental picture of long hairs trailing down from under his dad’s arms. “I just thought it would be nice if he had hair.”

“Where?” his father asked, entering the treatment room, fully clad in his armor.

“My lord, we were discussing the possibility of implan—”

“Never mind!” Luke rose and leaned against the counter. “What about _attaching_ hair somehow? On your head,” he added to his father.

“Certainly, sir.” The droid demonstrated enthusiasm in the way his shoulders pulled back slightly. “I could sew it to the synthskin. It could be easily removed and reattached when the skin requires updating.”

“That sounds great!” Excited, he craned his neck to look up at his father. “If I don’t cut my hair for a few more months, then you could have some of _my_ hair! It would even have your DNA— I mean, _my_ DNA.” Honestly, it would be simpler to tell TwoOneBee they were father and son.

“Thank you for your generous offer, but if I wish to do this, I am able to procure the finest human hair in the galaxy.”

_Yeah, probably by scalping people,_ he thought darkly, then immediately scolded himself for the thought. “But then you’d have a stranger’s hair. I think you should have mine.”

“Well… if you feel that strongly about it—”

Luke nodded enthusiastically.

“—we could pull yours out by the roots right now. It appears to be long enough to make an excellent wig. Wouldn’t you agree, TwoOneBee?”

“Oh, yes, my lord! Although it might be painful for Sir Garven as he is sensitive to the plucking of hairs. However, I could administer a—”

“No. No. Just no.” Luke pretended to be annoyed, but couldn’t disguise his grin. “Subject change! I finished with XL-6. He won’t remember that we messed with him or that TwoOneBee was here. As long as we don’t turn him on before we leave.”

“Thank you. TwoOneBee and I are leaving for the Executor the day after tomorrow.”

He felt suddenly nauseous, and his good mood plummeted. “What?” Luke hissed resentfully. “Well, thanks a lot for giving me some warning. _Not,”_ he added under his breath.

“I’m so excited!” TwoOneBee exclaimed, and they both looked at him. “I’ve read about the ship on your private military holonet, my lord. That is… my programming permits such access, but if you’d prefer not to allow it...?”

“That's fine.” His father looked at Luke. “Come,” he said as he walked out of the room.

“Come. Go. Study. Practice. Sit up straight.” Luke frowned and cast a plaintive glance at the droid. “My entire life is reduced to orders I have to follow.”

“That must be difficult, sir,” and Luke supposed he only imagined a hint of sarcasm from the droid.

“See you later, Two!” He gave a half-salute and hurried after his dad into his office. He cast a suspicious glance at the holoprojector and wondered if there were new snaps of him. 

“Do I have access to your ‘private military holonet’? Or is it just for you and your droids?”

“You do not have access.”

“Why not?” _And why are you leaving so soon? We should have talked more about this!_

“What you do not know, the Rebels _cannot_.”

“Like I’d tell them?” He huffed indignantly, then remembered something else. “I want to talk to you about those pirates.”

Vader stopped. “What about them?” It was a question that sounded like a threat.

Luke confronted him, arms akimbo. “They surrendered. They should’ve gone to prison. Isn’t there some kind of law about the treatment of prisoners?”

“I _am_ the law.” The helmet tilted slightly downward. “You would have preferred they went to prison? _Without_ a trial? Or perhaps you are rethinking the troopers’ punishment. Would you prefer a public trial so you can accuse them?”

He flushed. “That has nothing to do with the pirates! That was— It’s not fair that you use that, I fought them and won. And if— okay, even if the pirates didn’t have a trial, you didn’t have to slice their heads off. You’re entirely too eager to kill people!”

“Ah. Then you think we should have stood there and debated their fate while they listened? That would have been torturous for them, don’t you think? They met an unanticipated and merciful end.”

At least his father was listening and answering, even if his ‘answers’ were arguments meant to divert him. “Dad, you can’t keep killing people who aren’t threats. Like in that vid I saw on Empire Day. Those children weren’t threats!”

“Perhaps not right then— though insurgents have been known to turn their children into bombs— but when they grow, they would have become threats.” The Dark Lord began pacing, hands clasped behind his back.

Luke stood firm. “You don’t know that! There’s no way to know what they would have become. Just like there’s no way to know what you’re killing when it’s adults. Like… maybe they’re artists or mathematicians or brilliant ship designers. They have _lives._ They have people who care about them!”

“You’re being impractical and ridiculous— _again.”_

“I’m not ridiculous. You know what I’m saying is true! Stop! Will you just hold still! _”_

Surprisingly, Vader did. “Luke, the day you are in my place and facing the decisions that I do, will be the day you may criticize my actions.”

“I don’t….” His voice shook and he took a moment to calm it. “I don’t _ever_ want to be in your place, Dad. I don’t even want _you_ to be in this place you’re in. I want you to be a better person. For me.”

“Pah.” Vader snorted. “Just when I think you—”

“Don’t say whatever you’re going to say. I don’t want us to fight.” He brushed his hand against his father’s arm, and Vader relaxed his stiff pose slightly. “I’m so different from what I was two years ago when you found me. You made me study— and _think_. I have a good life now. I have you and I have friends. I have a purpose, I have goals. It doesn’t matter whether I’m a mechanic or a pilot or an explorer. I like my life.”

“You’re welcome,” Vader said shortly.

He wasn’t sure how to reach his dad right now. He could deal with anger and fear and defensiveness, but this was a soldier who was certain of the righteousness of what he did. And it was a father who was leaving in two days. They were running out of _time._

“You wanted me to be what you wanted in a son, and it turned out that made me a better person, too. Now I want the same thing. I want you to _like_ your life. I can see what you enjoy— strategizing, supervising, taking control. Finding resolutions to problems— but solutions don’t have to be fast and lethal. I want you to _promise_ me that you won’t kill anyone who isn’t a direct threat.”

“Luke, I will not promise such a thing. You’ve said it yourself— I am a warrior. Killing is what I do.”

“You have to stop!”

“I don’t _want_ to stop.”

A shiver ran the length of his body. Even behind the mask, the implacable face of a Sith Lord was visible, and he didn’t know how to reconcile his love for his father with the actions of Darth Vader. “If you don’t, eventually we’ll be torn apart. I can _feel_ it…” he whispered. “You know it’s true. Father, you can be a warrior without being a murderer of innocents.”

“Luke….” His father hesitated. “Son… you cannot understand what I face because you are merely _playing_ at war.”

“What!” He shook his head, anger edging into his words. “I am _not_ playing!”

“You are. That is intentional on my part. You have an alternative. As I have said, you could be at university doing _exactly_ the things you do now. Studying, working, spending time with friends— that is not war. War is ugly, it’s suffering, it’s destruction. If I could protect you from it forever, I would. But it is inevitable.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he insisted stubbornly as his father shook his head.

“It is likely that at some point before we face Sidious, you will face combat.” The Dark Lord stepped around him, his voice firm. “You are well-trained in the martial arts. But when you are face to face with a foe, use your lightsaber rather than a blaster.”

“Why?” His fingers reached out to grasp the edge of the armored cape, a silent plea for his father not to walk away. Not to leave in two days. Not to go back to his life of rage and servitude.

“A lightsaber strike is fast and clean. Go for death or amputation as appropriate. A blaster wound might not prevent a counterstrike… and a blaster causes great damage and suffering. I know that you would feel your enemy’s pain and be distracted. You are too sensitive.”

He couldn’t disagree, but there was that time, that _murder—_ “The spy… he used a blaster to his head… I mean _I_ used it. It was messy, but I didn’t feel anything.”

“You were not quite yourself then. And though you may deny it, that death still haunts you.”

“I don’t deny it. Right then, I thought it had to be done. I didn’t think it through. Now I wish I’d chosen another way.”

“That’s often the case. I had regrets about certain choices I made. But confrontations require swift reactions. There is not always time to ponder alternatives.” His father pulled his cape free and walked to look out the window at the wild expanse outside. “I was the strongest Jedi. The strongest Sith until I was crippled. Now I am second in all things.”

“You were never the strongest Sith,” Luke replied quietly, his resentment still simmering. _“He_ was always stronger than you.”

“No. Not at the beginning. He needed me. I _saved_ him. I rescued him, I defeated Dooku— I was the strongest then.”

“Are you sure?” He felt his agitation rising because he couldn’t sense if his father truly believed that. “You told me the story— how he was a prisoner in binders, helpless…. _Really?_ He was a _Sith Lord,_ he was never helpless! I can tell you’ve had doubts— you’ve wondered if he set you up to Fall.” 

He wished his father understood how much he hated the weird sort of hero worship his dad felt for Palpatine, the way he wouldn’t openly acknowledge what the Sith had done to him. How could his father have stayed loyal to such a man for so many years?

He supposed that was how Alliance Command felt about him and Darth Vader.

His father didn’t reply. He stood motionless, his back to Luke. He looked calm, but Luke could feel a smoldering turbulence rolling off him, so he softened his tone.

“I suppose at some point, after the initial thrill faded and you learned the extent of his powers, you realized it. But it was too late. You could have been the greatest Jedi ever, but he took everything away from you, and you... allowed it?” he added, his statement turning into a question.

Something was wrong. Was it what he said, what his father said…? Something was wrong and he didn’t know what it was and he was _frustrated_ because he should know. Because whatever it was, it was _important._

“You are wrong,” Vader said so coldly that it burned.

_I know. But about what? What’s the truth and what’s the lie? What am I not seeing?_

“You understand _nothing,”_ Vader continued. “Palpatine was helpless then. He was right about it all— about the Jedi, the overthrow, the plotting— about your _mother_ who betrayed me. He had _answers_ when the Jedi offered me _nothing.”_

“They _trained_ you! They gave you a home! And Sidious— does he still have all your answers?” Luke snapped, goaded. “Don’t you think for yourself? Can’t you find your own answers?”

“I have no _questions!”_ Vader roared, unexpectedly whirling, nearly knocking him over, towering above his head. “I know what I want! And you,” his father hissed, “are cruel! What sort of son are you to say such things to me?”

“A Sithspawn, I guess.” Luke didn’t flinch, though guilt twisted inside him. “But you have another chance now. You can change. I can help. After we overthrow him, we can leave, we can have different lives. Don’t you want that? Be honest with me.”

“I do _not_ want that!” Fury rumbled like thunder from his father. “I will rule. If I decide to be merciful, I may reach an accord with the Rebel Alliance. My empire may possibly be more _compassionate”_ — Vader sneered the word, “than Palpatine’s is now, but make no mistake, I will stay and rule the Empire as I see fit.”

Disappointment shattered the hope that had been flowering inside him for so long. “But I thought you wanted to change! I thought that’s what we’ve been talking about!”

“We have been _talking,_ Luke, that’s all. You shared your dreams. We both want different lives, but our intentions are not the same. I want to rule. You want to run. I have not lied to you about my desires.”

It was his turn to move to the window and search the gray skies. But of course there were no answers to be found in the clouds. He felt… betrayed? No. _Disappointed_ beyond belief, even though inside a voice whispered that he had always suspected that Vader didn’t truly want to change. All of his dreams were just that… dreams.

“No. You said… I thought… you would come with me. Remember? We can join the racing circuit….” Maybe _this_ was the Void. Reality, in all its despair. “You let me believe….”

“I did not. You let yourself believe. And you’re not a Sithspawn,” his father added calmly, as if he was instructing.

“What?” Disoriented, he leaned his forehead against the transparisteel.

“A Sithspawn is a living being that has been perverted through Sith Alchemy, twisted into something it was not intended to be.”

“Oh.” He felt numb. Uncle Owen had called him that when he thought Luke couldn’t hear. Dodonna had called him that. But— “So… you mean it’s someone like you.”

Air sucked from the room as if a tornado had struck, and his breath caught in his throat. He stared at the landscape, searching for a disturbance. He’d never seen a tornado, but he’d watched them in newscasts and this was how people said they felt. Like they couldn’t breathe. Like they were going to implode.

“You _should_ be my apprentice,” Vader snarled. “You have the ruthlessness necessary. But no matter, I have other candidates for the position.”

“No, I didn’t mean…. Dad, he took your greatness and your promise and molded you into what he wanted.”

“Again… that is what _you_ want to do, Son.”

They were on a path that led nowhere but into disagreements and possibly estrangement. This was a vital battle, not one he could win today— but not one that he would give up. Luke pressed his palms against the window and tried to relax into the Force.

“No. You cannot meditate alone now. You will be overwhelmed by the Dark Side. Your violent emotions draw it toward you.” Behind him, his father moved restlessly. “I will teach you more. You must see the Force, but with my supervision. You must understand _everything._ Only then will you— and I— understand the extent of your powers.”

He nodded but said nothing. After a moment, he felt the overwhelming presence of his father leaning heavily against his left shoulder, trapping him against the wall.

“You belong to me. In time, you will understand and accept that fully.”

_I’m not a possession. I’m not a ship or a castle. I’m your son, but I belong to myself._

“You’re wrong. I paid for you, child. The blood of many beings paid for you.”

Luke felt like his entire body was tightening, pulling itself smaller and smaller. He shook his head.

“Yes. The Jedi died so I could have you and your mother. When you were both lost, the galaxy paid for my losses. For what they had stolen from me. They still pay. Every time I strike someone down. Every time I lay waste to a planet. Every time I wipe out an entire race of useless creatures. Every pathetic sycophant who cowers at my feet, begging for mercy. Every time I _remember_ , I make pay for what they did to me and to Padme and to you.”

He covered his face with his hands. “If… then…. I’m _here._ If I’m the reason for your actions, then you can stop. You’ve won. It’s over. You have what you want.”

“I don’t have Padme.”

“And whose fault is that?” He lowered his hands and turned to look up at the Sith who was so close Luke was pressed back against the window. “Why should anyone else pay for what you did? Or… what you didn’t. My birth means you didn’t kill her. You know that.”

“No. I killed her. She stood in front of me with you in her belly, and I crushed her throat. It just took her a little longer to die.” Vader moved away and his voice lowered. “She was the reason for all of it. Saving her— He said he knew how to save her. Then he said we could learn _together_ how to save her. Then he said it was too late. She was gone.”

“Of course!” Luke snapped bitterly. “It all comes back to _him._ Everything in your life. Even now, trying to own me.” He _hated_ this. Hated the power Sidious had over his father. Hated—

_Hate is not the answer. Hate is the cause._

He drew a long breath to center himself. “Father. Your anger has kept you fighting all these years. But you don’t have to fight any longer. Just once more— with me at your side— and you’ll be free. But you have to let go of your hatred and your… dependence on him. Your….”

No. He couldn’t say _love._ Because it wasn’t love, it was something dark and perverse that fed on his father’s soul. It was Palpatine’s hunger, his need to gorge on evil and regurgitate it back into his victim, over and over, a never-ending cycle.

He held his breath, waiting for an answer that didn’t come. Maybe that was a good thing. So he stayed still, quieting his racing heart, hoping Vader would calm.

It took less time than he’d thought it would. “We’re going to the surface. Wear armor. You will meditate. I will guide you.”

_That’s not exactly reassuring,_ Luke thought but didn’t Send. He wondered what was more dangerous: the surface of Vjun or his Dark Father guiding his thoughts.

“I don’t think I should meditate right now. I’m not in the mood.”

Vader studied him, then said in a soft tone that Luke didn’t realize the vocoder could manage, “Remember the dressing room.”

Luke winced and his eyes filled. “You break my heart,” he whispered.

His father hesitated, wavering slightly on his feet, but all he said was:

“Armor.”


	3. Connecting the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader and Luke bond in shared meditation— and have an epiphany.

When he argued with friends at the Alliance Base, even with not-a-friend Bren Quersey, he’d finish full of energy, sometimes even hyper. But arguing with his father wore him down. It felt like he was a planet that had been hit by a meteorite. Not enough to knock him out of orbit, but just enough to make him wobble.

He managed to get part of his armor on, the arms and shoulders and some of the stupid, abysmally uncomfortable leather wrap, then he sank onto the sofa, exhausted and demoralized. He’d really thought his father was warming to the idea of leaving after defeating Palpatine. But Vader was correct, he hadn’t ever agreed. It was all another Luke daydream— like Uncle Owen always criticized him for. _Stop dreaming and get that coil replaced._ Although by the time he was thirteen, it was _Stop drinking._

According to his dad, he was _ridiculous._ That was his favorite word. And _impractical._ What else? Oh, yeah… _content with mediocrity._ Hmm… well, to be fair, his father didn’t label him as harshly as Owen had. But Vader also had more expectations.

Luke was still slumping when The Man Himself arrived in all his Sith-armored glory. Vader stopped, and Luke braced for the inevitable scolding. Instead his father dropped wordlessly to one knee and picked up his leg armor, buckling it into place around his shin.

Luke leaned forward and rested his forehead on top of the shiny helmet. 

Vader was wrapping his other leg when he said quietly, “I lost both your mother and my closest friend because of politics.”

The unspoken question was obvious. “You won’t lose me. I don’t even _like_ politics.”

“One day you will choose a side.”

 _Why?_ It seemed like Vader’s Empire would be a compromise between Palpatine’s ideas and the Alliance’s. “I choose you.” He sat up and rubbed his sleeve over the smudge he’d made on the highly polished headgear.

Vader finished fastening the leg armor and paused. For a moment he gripped both of Luke’s ankles tightly, which felt oddly good and not unpleasantly proprietary. Then he released them and stood. Luke followed. He handed Luke the long cape and watched as he tossed it on, tugging the hood over his head.

“I know you’re tired.” His dad sounded as weary as Luke felt. “But we must do this. I have neglected your deep meditation training this week, and you cannot do it alone.”

“I can meditate. I’ve done it before.”

“Not to the extent you are capable of. I don’t want to leave your explorations to chance.”

“What could go wrong?” he asked half-seriously. “I’ve already been back to the Void and there’s nothing there anymore. What else is there to be worried about?”

“There’s always something in the Void. You simply chose not to acknowledge it last time.” Vader held up his hand as Luke opened his mouth to protest. “Not intentionally. Your subconscious—”

He groaned. “I don’t want to hear about my subconscious! I don’t want to go back there!”

“Luke….” The Sith paced away and back, hands clasped behind him. “It may or may not happen. I will guide you through both the lows and the highs, so that you’ll be safe when you attempt to meditate deeply on your own.”

“Okay.” It sounded vague and frightening. Luke pulled on his gloves and held out his arms. His dad gave a small, possibly amused, sound and buckled them.

“I would have thought that by this age you could dress yourself.”

“I would’ve thought that by _your_ age you’d have known better than to give your kid really complicated clothes!”

He felt more positive. Maybe they could leave the bitter words behind.

# # #

“It seems like there are a lot of planets that aren’t friendly to life.” Vjun was certainly one of them. The surface was as rocky as it had looked from up high. Plus, with the rain shield in place, everything was misty, but oddly dry and—- Oh. The mist wasn’t dampness, it was dust. Not as bad as Tatooine, but still it was a contradiction… like Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader.

Maybe that’s why his father had chosen it.

“And just how many planets have you been to, young one?”

Luke sighed. “Five! Which is four more than a lot of people ever get to.” He’d ask his dad how many _he’d_ been to, but the answer would probably be ‘all of them’ or ‘millions’ or something equally superior.

Vader sat on a flat bench of rock that looked relatively comfortable. He pointed to the ground. “Sit.”

At least he wasn’t wearing his good clothes. As soon as he was in place, his father said: “Lean back against the rock,” and Luke had to shift around again, which wasn’t easy with all this armor.

“Why?”

“In case you tip over.”

He couldn’t tell if the Dark Lord was being serious or giving him a hard time. Either way, at least Vader in a better mood, too. Maybe they could just forget about what they’d said, because they’d said some pretty terrible things. He wished they could go back a few hours and start the day over.

“You see the plant?”

Following the direction of the pointed finger, he saw a pathetic thing struggling between rocks. It looked barely alive. “I see it.” _I’m not blind._ “You call that thing a plant?”

“You will meditate on it.”

“You mean I should sit on it?” Luke flashed a sassy grin, struggling to return their relationship to a more normal level— wait, did he just think _normal?—_ but Vader didn’t respond. “Fine.” He stared at the spiky, fat little leaves. If they could be called ‘leaves’. It looked sad. Like a child without a parent. Which it was because there were no other plants nearby. It was born alone, grew up alone, would be alone for as long as it managed to live, and it would never know—

“Focus. Capture your wandering thoughts and direct them toward the plant. It is a creature flourishing within the Force, as all things are.”

He wriggled a little, trying to ignore the armor that dug into the back of his calves. “Should I crush it?”

“No. Look at its present life, not its future demise.”

_Maybe if you contemplated present lives instead of future demises, you wouldn’t kill so many people._

“Focus.”

“I’m trying!”

“You are not. You are fighting me. This is not about me. See the plant, see the life. Let it reveal itself. Open your mind and look inside.”

Okay. His dad was right. He was resisting for no reason other than to be recalcitrant. The plant wasn’t his enemy— and neither was his father, even though that was sometimes challenging to remember.

“Close your eyes.”

On the surface, it was illogical but he bit back his automatic protest. He fixed the image of the plant in his mind, then closed his eyes. Almost immediately he heard sounds— but they were overwhelmed by his father’s breathing. Carefully, he took the suit’s breathing and placed it in a separate slot in his head, then observed the smaller sounds. Rustling of— “Armored rodents!” he exclaimed, eyes flying open as he looked around. “Do they bite?”

“If they come at you, I will eliminate them. Now—”

“No! See what I mean? You always want to kill things!”

“Very well, I will _think_ them away. Now, please, Luke. Time is not infinite.”

 _It isn’t?_ That was not at all reassuring. But he slipped easily back to where he had been, the suit’s steady breathing muffled, the sounds and smells—

_The plant._

The plant, right. He pictured it again and this time he slipped inside. He could feel the softness that was nothing like its prickly exterior. But there was strength, a determination to _live_ no matter the obstacles. The strength slithered into the ground, found bitter moisture down deep and drank it. It felt the wet, felt the life, molecules… atoms, small, shrinking, infinitesimal…

Until it wasn’t small at all. Until it opened. Somewhere in the depth of the plant’s non-soul, it opened itself.

The universe unveiled. The plant was Luke, a tiny spark of life that grew smaller and smaller as space expanded. It looked like the night sky or hyperspace full of stars, but each star was a life and each life was overflowing with stars. He clutched his spark, looking around. He could pick out people he knew… his friends, his lost family… those he thought of as enemies, they were stars too. His father, flaming bright and strong and cold, close to him… then drifting away. He watched but made no move. He could easily reach out and pull his father back… but he didn’t. He was patient, waiting for his father’s path to return to him. And it did, gradually but inexorably.

Other stars orbited his father. No, not just him… stars orbited every star, spinning in patterns, meeting without colliding, there was no destruction until….

The Void. He recognized it immediately. It was a huge gaping mouth, empty, yawing from side to side, up and down, in all directions in a directionless space, snaring stars, devouring them. His father was floating there, on the other side, the far side of his orbit. Luke ventured closer, wanting to peer into the emptiness and see what seduced his father toward the edge of the depths and held him there.

But he couldn’t see. His Star-Father was suddenly there, wavering between him and the heavy vacuum that tried to suck him inside. His father was too close to the edge, and Luke magnified his own star until he was so hot and bright that he could feel his father covet his warmth and wrap himself within it, an unexpected respite from the cold of the Void. But he didn’t stay. He wasn’t content. Over and over, his father drifted away and returned, as though Luke’s presence was a beacon or an…

… _Anchor._

The Void called to him, laden with whispers of memories and new promise, and he wanted to look, couldn’t deny his curiosity, he would just _look_ at what was in there. He wouldn’t go in; he wouldn’t go too close. He circled nearer and leaned over it, piercing through the mists, struggling to define what he saw. It wasn’t empty at all. There were shapes—

 _Lives._ Millions of screaming stars that obliterated themselves as he watched, and the stars that surrounded those stars fell into the darkness— He reached for them, he could touch them, he could pull them back, but he lost his balance, he tumbled—

Star-Father held on. For a moment, Luke thought they would both fall. But the moment passed, and he was away and the mouth of the Void was shrinking. Eating itself. Melting. Consumed by something bigger, something he couldn’t quite make out. Together they watched and he wondered: did Star-Father see what he saw? Or did he see something totally different?

“You focus too much inside yourself. That’s enough for now.”

The sound jarred him into reality. That was a real voice— Vader. He was— they were— Luke blinked several times. It was dark, but the sky was milky with millions of stars. Or were they lives? Never again would he be certain. Beams were cascading from the heights in the distance. He saw toy figures of troopers around the castle, shining white under the lights. He was cold.

His father stood. Luke couldn’t move. He had no body, no legs. He felt like some of him was still out there, lost in the… where? “The Force? Was that… is that…?”

“Everything is the Force, Luke, and the Force is everywhere. The Force just _is.”_ His father picked him up like he was a child and walked across the rocky ground as easily as he glided on smooth marble floors.

Luke closed his eyes. “Goin’ home now?”

“We’re going back to the castle.”

“Oh.” He frowned and pushed his face against the coldness of the heavy pauldron. “Not home?”

The steady breathing hitched. “Where is home, Luke?”

“Don’t you know?” The disappointment was exhausting. “How’ll we get there if you don’t know?”

They were somewhere warmer, and he felt himself floating away….

“We’ll find it together, Son.”

“Yeah…together... ‘cause I’m your Anchor.”

...and fell asleep into a star-filled universe, knowing that every star he saw was alive.

# # #

He opened his eyes just a little and peered around. His armor and boots were nearby, stacked neatly on a chair. Bewildered, he saw the sky was still filled with stars. _Lives._ Millions of lives.

Blinking, he moved his head and realized that he was lying on his dad’s sofa, the black cape covering him like a blanket. His father had changed out of his suit and was across the room, sitting in the dark at his desk, staring at a round holo while the galaxy revolved across the ceiling and walls. Luke smiled slightly, knowing Vader knew he was awake, but not ready to get up. He would just lie here for awhile and rest.

Or not. Fifteen seconds later, he was bored and curious. He rose and stretched, then carefully folded his father’s cape and draped it across the sofa arm. In stocking feet, he padded across the room, perched in the chair opposite his dad’s desk and pulled his legs into a huddle, resting his chin on his knees.

“What time is it?”

“Does it matter?”

“I want to know if it’s still today.”

His dad’s lips twitched. “It’s still today.”

Okay, just those few words showed his father was in a better mood. So, in fact, was Luke. “I didn’t do very good in meditation, did I?”

Vader’s pale face was made ghost-white by the holo image. “You did fine, you were simply predisposed to focus on personal issues. Tomorrow we will…focus elsewhere.”

“Okay.” He nibbled on his thumbnail. “So is the Void actually the Dark Side or Palpatine? Or is it a physical place?”

The Sith Lord sighed. “That which is called the ‘Dark Side’ is a result of your actions. The Force has no sides. The Jedi and the Sith are both wrong. I’ve believed their equally inane philosophies for too long, and I’m done. I’m smarter than this. As for the possibility of the Void being a physical place, I don’t know. It may be real or it may exist only in our minds, but— to hell with it. Scoot over here.”

“Okay!” Happy to be invited closer, he dragged the chair around the desk and settled in next to his dad, who sounded like he was in the midst of some sort of mental revolution. Which would be fine with Luke. “What’re you looking at?”

“Coruscant.”

He liked that his dad preferred the old name. In fact, he didn’t remember Vader had ever called it Imperial Center in his presence. “Why?”

“Something you said earlier.” Vader leaned back and swiveled his chair to face Luke. “You were wrong. I _did_ save Palpatine when I freed him and brought the ship in safely.”

“Okay,” he replied cautiously, not willing to disagree and start the whole mess over again.

“You of course remember my plan involving the Death Star.”

Luke grimaced. “Yeah. Sorry about that.” _Sort of._

Vader made a dismissive gesture of his hand. “Instinctively I wanted him away from Coruscant, but I never considered _why_ until you berated me earlier.”

“I’ll bite. Why?” _Berated_. He smiled inside.

“Here.” The planet that was Coruscant was enlarged, and they watched it spin slowly. “What do you see?”

“Lights.” He peered closely. “I don’t see much else. It’s all lights.”

“Let’s reduce some of them. Say, the lights from buildings that were built within the last four hundred years.” That reduced the brightness a little, but it still looked like a glittering ball of stars.

“I don’t get it.”

“Not yet. Now let’s go back three _thousand_ years.”

That made quite a difference. “But it was still well-populated then. What am I looking for?”

“A pattern.”

Luke squinted. “I don’t see—”

“Do you need vision correction?” Vader demanded.

“No! Sheesh. My eyes are fine. I just don’t see what you’re— Well, the grid pattern is more visible without so many buildings.”

“Yes. Now we’ll eliminate another seven hundred years of development. Watch the rotation as the entire planet transcends from light to dark.”

He leaned his head against his dad’s shoulder and felt the old spark between them. Disagreements weren’t important. All that mattered was each other. Well… that, and getting over disagreements.

“Oh! Look!” He straightened and pointed his finger at a spot near the equator. “The light trails end there.”

“Or begin there.”

The geography of Coruscant was a mystery to him. All those buildings had disguised the landmarks. It was such a mess. People should have left it alone and not built so much. “What’s there?”

“Right now, the Imperial Palace.” Vader smiled faintly. “In earlier days, the Jedi Temple. Before that, primitive peoples worshiped there. Coruscant has long been thought to be the birthplace of humanoid species.”

Luke was quiet, trying to understand the significance. “So what does that mean?”

“The founding Jedi knew this spot was a locus of power and regeneration. So did the Sith. So does Palpatine.” His father looked at him, eyes bright with excitement— and very blue. “If you hadn’t said what you did and made me question my rescue of Palpatine, I might never have made the connection.”

“Great!” He was proud of himself. However— “But what does that _mean?”_

“It means, my dear son, that Palpatine’s powers are strongest on Coruscant. He can draw more readily from the Force. The Dark Side.”

“You just said—” _Dear son?_

_Dear son!_

“I said that _I_ no longer believe it. _He_ does.”

“So that’s why he never leaves.”

“Exactly.”

That was kind of a big assumption. “That’s why you wanted him on the Death Star,” he said slowly. “You could have defeated him there.”

 _“We_ could have, but I didn’t understand the reason. Now I do.”

Luke slouched in the chair, staring at the lines of lights that pointed like arrows to a single spot on the planetary holo. “So now you need another reason to get him off-planet.”

“Exactly.” His father looked at him sideways, smiling. “And I have the reason, my little anchor. Or should I say— I have the _bait.”_

That was not ambiguous at all, especially with the way his dad was looking at him. “Oh,” Luke said. “Me.”


	4. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader and Luke discuss their plan to defeat Palpatine and have some father-son bonding moments. Vader has stories to tell and a few confessions to make while Luke shares another of his “brilliant” ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who’s reading. I love writing these two! ♥️

He wasn’t certain that he wanted to be _bait,_ but his dad was so enthused that Luke wanted to encourage him by listening closely. _V_ _ery_ closely. Because this plan had holes big enough to fly an x-wing through. Still, he listened with only half his brain because the other half was figuring out how to fill the holes and exactly _what_ to tell the Alliance so they were prepared when the Skywalkers descended on them.

“I don’t understand.” He nibbled on a breakfast stick. “He’s been ignoring me for the last year, why would he care now?”

“I don’t believe he’s considered you a threat. I told him you showed negligible talent in the Force, and you had very little effect on it prior to this past week because I kept your occasional forays protected from his senses. Now is he aware that I found you and am training you. Now you are becoming a threat.”

Luke shifted uncomfortably in the stiff chair and pushed his plate away. There were two gold sparkles on the rim and he hoped his dad didn’t notice them. “Is he going to punish you?”

“He wouldn’t dare.” His father sneered. “Together we’re too powerful for him. He knows it’s too late. He can’t stop us.”

_All the more reason to try to eliminate you. And/or me._

“Remember,” Vader said, “I’ll stay in the vicinity so that I can—”

“Swoop in for a rescue?” Luke offered. “But the Alliance will think your ship is part of the attack force.”

“You will tell them otherwise.”

 _Great, because I’m sure they’ll listen to me._ “What if he doesn’t bring a fleet? What if he comes alone?”

_And how are you going to be lurking nearby with that humongous ship that can’t possibly be hidden?_

“It’s unlikely because it would make it more difficult to capture you— unless you do something foolish.”

_Not me. Never._

“Such as offering yourself as a sacrifice in exchange for saving your base. Which would be meaningless, as he would destroy it anyway.”

He sighed heavily. “When are we getting to the part where we defeat him?”

“Ah!” His father leaned forward. If the subject wasn’t so grim, his excitement would be infectious. “I initiate the viruses!”

“What?! Not until he finds me?!”

“No, no, stop worrying. When he leaves Coruscant, the first wave of virus will confuse the computer and navigation systems. When he’s in hyperspace, I’ll initiate the communications blackout. Or if I’m unable to, remember that you have the code and can do it. You just need access to a wide-range communicator that can integrate with the Imperial network. Certainly there is one at the Rebel base headquarters.”

“I’ll ask,” Luke said weakly, as he was busy flying his x-wing through all these holes labeled _if_ and _maybe_ and _although_ and _unless._

“He can’t defeat us both. If I’d known whom he really was, I’d have taken him down aboard the Invisible Hand before he claimed power.”

“Is that the ship where you and Obi-Wan confronted General Grievous?”

“It’s where _I_ killed Count Dooku and rescued the chancellor.” His father looked affronted. “Obi-Wan was useless. First he spent his time criticizing Artoo and then—”

“Who’s Artoo?”

“He was my astromech droid.” Vader sighed. “We made a great team. I was never able to find out what happened to him. He certainly didn’t deserve the scorn Obi-Wan heaped on him. And _then_ , when we confronted Dooku, Kenobi got himself knocked unconscious, so _I_ had to defeat Dooku, rescue Palpatine _and_ Obi-Wan, and then _I_ flew them home against seemingly insurmountable odds while Obi-Wan whined the entire time.”

Luke bit back a chuckle. He had a feeling his dad had told himself this story many times. “When I was first at the Alliance Base, before they knew who I was, Commander Dreis told me about a vid he’d seen of you landing a flaming ship that was falling apart. Was that—”

“Yes, that was the time. Unfortunate civilian casualties there. Smashed the control tower, a few buildings, nearly a hundred people— but we made it.”

The unexpected sound that came out of his mouth was something between a sigh and a squeak. “Well… is that vid still around? I’d like to see it.”

“Nothing is ever really gone once it’s on the Holonet. Sidious has blocked access to old info, but when I’m in charge, I’ll reissue some of the content.”

“Especially the vids with you in them.”

“Of course. Now,” Vader rubbed his hands together, “this will be just like we used to do! Winging it! _Knowing_ everything would work out because we were _unbeatable!_ No matter what we—”

“Hold it! Who is this ‘we’? We haven’t done any of this stuff!”

His father opened his mouth to retort, then hesitated. “Never mind, I was talking about the past. Now, if by chance he personally confronts you, remember that you have the advantage because you too can reach deeply into the Force, and he can’t touch the Light the way you can. Yavin is an excellent location to practice that further, so much life to connect with. That will help protect you.”

He sighed, exhausted from simply _listening_ to this disjointed mess. Still, his father was the strategist, not him. “And then what? With Palpatine, I mean.”

“Only use your lightsaber as a last resort.” His dad sent him a look of surprise as though it should be obvious. “If I’m not there already, I’ll be there shortly, you would only have to hold him for a brief time. If he points his fingers at you, remember to jump away.”

Luke began to laugh. To his own ears, he sounded a little hysterical, and he could see his father was puzzled.

“There’s nothing funny about this, Son. We’re changing the galaxy.”

He rocked back and forth on the chair, giggling. “Watch out for the lightning!” Why the hell did that strike him as funny? “It’s not even raining! There’s no thunder!”

The Dark Lord made a disgusted sound. “Sit up straight! You need to listen seriously. We must finalize this plan.”

“Finalize?” That _was_ a squeak. Luke calmed himself. “Dad… it all sounds really vague. You know you’re risking my life, right?”

 _“Our_ lives.” The other man leaned forward. “Luke, I will not risk you unnecessarily— No, I will not risk you _at all._ That is why we must solidify the details. We must not fail to establish a new Empire or our lives— and millions of others— will be forfeit.”

“Empire?” Luke echoed. “Oh… you’re going to call it an ‘empire’?”

Vader blinked. “Of course. What did you expect?”

“Well….” This seemed like the right moment to put in another suggestion. “Maybe… Republic… New Republic… Republic One…?”

“No, no and no.”

“How about ‘Federation’? Maybe ‘Federation One’. Or ‘Galactic Federation’. ‘Interstellar Federation’, something like that. Just a thought.”

His father didn’t immediately nix the idea, so maybe there was hope. Luke decided to push a little more. “I have another brilliant idea!”

Vader leaned back in his chair, folded his arms, and smiled indulgently. “Let’s hear it.”

“Okay! So, if you can release all the old vids of… you know… the _former_ you,” he began, “then after we win, I can tell the galaxy that I rescued Anakin Skywalker, who’s been held prisoner by the Emperor for almost two decades, and—” He could see a furrow beginning across his dad’s forehead, so he quickly changed direction “—and say that Anakin killed the Emperor to save me. And you’d be a hero and everyone would want you to run the next government, whatever you called it. Good, huh?”

Silence.

“All you have to do,” Luke added tentatively, “is get shorter legs so you don’t look so… Vader-ish. You’ve already got that great blue robe.” A little more flattery was in order. “You look like royalty in it. Imagine all the vids of the moment you stride victorious from the— from the wherever we are— and you’re clutching a… well, maybe you can use carry of your old sabers. Not a red one. Doesn’t that sound great?”

More silence, which was better than immediate rejection. Finally: “I’ll consider it, though it would require more planning. For instance… what will happen to Darth Vader and everyone who knows his former identity?”

 _Yay, I kinda sorta won! Maybe._ “You kill Vader, too! And… we’ll figure out the rest later. But just in case you like that idea, I can order the legs so Palpatine doesn’t know, plus I can—”

“I already ordered them.”

“—get some— _What?”_ Had he misunderstood? “You already ordered _shorter legs?!”_

“I believe in being prepared for all contingencies.”

Oh, _please!_ “Huh,” was all he commented aloud, but inside he was _thrilled._ “Whatever… I’m really happy you ordered them.” He fidgeted with his fork. “But I’m still worried. What if you don’t get there in time? What if he catches me? I might not be able to hold him off until you get there, even if he _is_ a really old man.”

“First,” Vader said firmly, “I will never be at a greater distance from you than an hour in hyperspace. Second—”

“You can’t promise that! He might send you away somewhere.”

“I won’t go. The Executor can travel without me. I can still maintain control. And second, if you can be all ears?” He paused, waiting for Luke to nod. “I will tell you the secret to dealing with the Emperor.”

His eyes widened and he leaned forward. “What is it?”

“He loves to talk. More than that, he loves to hear himself talking. He believes he’s brilliant and clever.” His father’s smile was full of sly satisfaction. “He believes he can persuade anyone of anything. The more you listen to him, the more fascinated he will be with you. If he thinks he has any chance of turning you, he will keep talking. But don’t be obvious, don’t pretend you’re interested. Just listen.”

“I should play hard to get.”

“Exactly. Play for time, and I will be there.”

“Okay.” That actually made him feel better. “But the Executor is still in the Kuat shipyards, right? What if he knows about me _now_ and attacks the Alliance base before you can get there?”

“That is a small risk. However,” the smile was a little roguish, “to be safe, I suppose you’ll just have to come with me for a couple days until she’s launched.”

“Yes!” Luke punched the air. “Yes, yes— I wanna see it!” Then his mind started racing. “What should I wear? Should I be in disguise? Oh, I know, I could be a clerk who follows you around taking notes about the ship. But I have to pack all my stuff— is there gonna be room in Yahoo for all my clothes and yours? Or are we taking two ships? And who should I be? Do I have to be Garven again or—” He stopped when his dad held up one hand.

“We will take Yahoo. I have no ‘stuff’, so we can fill her with your clothing and armor.”

“And TwoOneBee. And you should take _your_ new clothes, just in case. Especially the fancy robe.”

“You’re correct. And I think….” Here the Sith Lord paused. “Would you like to be Luke Skywalker again? It’s time to send that name into the galaxy… if you are comfortable with it.”

“Yes!” he declared promptly, pleased that his dad was asking instead of ordering. “I guess I’ll have a lot to explain to the Alliance.”

“Indeed you will. But enough talking. Today you will practice your meditation again.”

# # #

“I think the Void is just my scared thoughts.” He stretched his arm along the back of the sofa and leaned his face against it, tired but in a pleasant way. Like he’d had a peaceful rest in the Force. The holo-galaxy orbited all around them, pinpoints of light in the evening darkness.

His father inclined his head. “Your acceptance of that belief is why you were successful in avoiding it. I’m very pleased with your progress.”

There was a lot that still bothered him, even though his session had been successful. “Do you meditate this way?”

“Not to your extent. I believe you fall deeper into the Force, similar to Yoda. Even Obi-Wan could reach depths I couldn’t.”

“Depths?” he wondered. “Or heights?”

A shrug was his only answer. Vader turned sideways, tucking one foot under him, as relaxed as Luke had ever seen him. “I am sorry that I was not a father to you for all your years.”

“How could you be?” he soothed. “You didn’t know I was alive.”

“I should have known. I should have _felt_ you.” His father rubbed his nose. “When I got Jovay’s report, when I first observed you from a distance— a skinny, tough spicer who could walk off a roof as easily as he trod the street— I should have _felt_ you then. It wasn’t until you were aboard the Devastator, an impossible child, troubled and troublesome and somehow undeniably part of me, then I could feel you— I could feel _us_. But I should have known sooner.”

“Dad, don’t beat yourself up about the past. You tell me that we should look forward, not back. Take your own advice. Listen to your heart.”

A short bark of bitter laughter erupted. “My heart? My heart died nearly eighteen years ago— or so I thought. My son, you are what’s left of my heart. You rescuitated it, you brought me back to life. That’s why I wish I could be better for you.”

“Well….” He decided to talk about what still smarted. “If you want to try, you could lose your Imaginary Friend and stop bashing me to him.”

“I don’t actually _have—_ ” The Dark Lord sighed. “I know I said things that hurt you, but I don’t remember all my foolish words.”

_I do._

“Whatever they were, I apologize. If they were negative, they did not reflect my true feelings for you, only my… paranoia. My fears. My continuing disbelief that you can care for me.”

“Why won’t you believe that I love you?” Luke tried to hold his frustration in check.

“How could anyone?” Vader reached across the sofa, holding out his hand. After a hesitation, Luke grasped it and pulled it against his cheek. “There is only one thing that we have that separates us from the non-living.”

“Life?” Luke quipped nervously, struggling for a smile as he tried to follow the logic in his dad’s thoughts.

“Free will.” His father’s touch was warm on his face, the new skin smooth. “Our choices. Our actions. We alone are responsible for our decisions. True, I could say that Palpatine forced my decision to become a Sith, but I think that decision had been made the moment I left my mother.”

“The Jedi took you from her.”

“Yes. Much as I wanted to become a Jedi, I always resented them for leaving her behind. And I resented Yoda for saying I was too young to be trained, but now I realize that he was right. I finally understand what they meant by attachment— a bond so strong that severing it would have severe consequences. I was always on edge, ready for action, for fighting. So when I found her again and she was dying, I couldn’t think beyond revenge for her death. For all the lost years we could have had.”

“Then you killed the tribe of Tuskens.”

“Yes. After that, it was simply a matter of time until I seized the opportunity to turn my anger outward and make violence my way of life. I find a measure of satisfaction in it.”

“Yeah.” He remembered his father smashing the pirates’ treasures. His enjoyment had been obvious, though Luke didn’t understand why destruction would bring anyone pleasure.

“I loved your mother so much that I couldn’t tolerate her betrayal… though afterward… now, I…. Now… I love you, Luke, and I don’t want to hurt you. I’m more self-aware now, but I have felt your fears that I am mentally unstable.”

“No! I… I mean….”

“I understand. Perhaps I am, for sometimes my thoughts….” Vader frowned. “But as I have said before, I am what I am. And what I am is violent and contemptuous of lifeforms, which is the antithesis of what you are.”

“So we balance each other.”

The bald head tilted. “Or perhaps it is what you saw in your meditation, that you are my Anchor. You hold me in place. You give me a home. In your heart.”

“But an anchor holds you down. You don’t go anywhere. Neither do I. I mean, neither does an anchor.” Luke pushed his face harder against his father’s hand. “Commander Narra once called me a magnet and said that my personality attracted people.”

Vader smiled. “Anchor or magnet. Or perhaps a star. You stand firm and people are drawn to you, circling you like moons.”

It was a weird simile, but it pleased him. They were quiet for a few moments until Vader said: “Luke, you are my only hope. You are the _galaxy’s_ only hope. It’s not just Palpatine that you will eliminate; you will return hope to everyone who wants freedom.”

“Including you?” _How did that happen in two years? One day I’m zoning out on spice, the next day I’m saving the universe._

A smile was reflected in eyes that, lately, were blue more often than gold. “Yes.”

It was suddenly too much of a burden to consider. Luke’s thoughts strayed to a more immediate issue. “We’re leaving tomorrow.” He felt a little regret. Vjun wasn’t much of a place, but it was a home. At least when his dad was here.

“Today,” Vader corrected. “It’s already tomorrow.” He rubbed Luke’s cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry I haven’t been the father you wanted.”

“Don't say that.” He caught the thumb and squeezed it. “You’re the father I _need.”_ He stood and stretched. “I’ll tell TwoOneBee to get ready. He’ll be so _excited.”_

His dad shook his head. “That droid. He makes me glad Artoo spoke binary, not Standard.”

“I can speak binary! Beep beep beep-ity beep!”

It was worth being silly to hear his father laugh.


	5. The Ship at the End of the Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Vader travel to the Executor and arrive to a ceremony that doesn’t impress the Dark Lord.

“I have a question.”

“When don’t you?”

“There may be one day, but this isn’t it,” Luke chirped, happy to have extra days with his dad and to be heading for a rendezvous to see the new destroyer. “But first— and this isn’t my question— why are so many TIEs escorting us?”

“It’s a formal occasion. I am taking command of the largest, most magnificent craft ever to grace the skies.”

 _Hmm. Really, is ‘grace’ the right word?_ “Is it bigger and more lethal than the Death Star?”

“No,” his dad said shortly, sounding unsettled. “It is not a world-destroyer, it is a warship. When we arrive, young one, you will wear your armor. You may forgo the helmet,” he added when Luke groaned. “Now ask your question.”

“Okay. Well… you said that when I confront Palpatine, I’ll have an advantage because I can reach the Light Side and he can’t, so presumably that means he can’t defend against the Light.”

“That’s not a question.”

“I’m getting there, don’t rush me! So… when he’s off Coruscant, are you _really_ sure he can’t utilize the Dark Side? And that’s a sub-question, not my main question.”

“He can use the Dark, of course, but not as strongly as he can on Coruscant. _I think.”_

What? Did his dad just say _I think_ aloud or was that supposed to be a private thought? “Um… okay…. So maybe I should try to use not just the Light, but the Dark against him too? Sorta double-up on my offense?” He blinked with simulated innocence.

“Absolutely not! You might augment his ability.”

Time to fly his x-wing through one of those plot holes. “Well, when you get there, won’t you be using the Dark Side?”

There was an uncomfortable moment before his dad asked, “Is that your question?”

“Sort of. But what I mean is, if _you_ use the Dark Side, could _that_ augment his ability? Could he… I dunno, reach the Dark through you?” He waited in vain for a response before asking softly: “Dad, can you still touch the Light?”

“Luke.” With a muffled sigh of exasperation, Vader shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s not something I’ve ever…. Well....” His response trailed off.

“What?” There was something there, he _knew_ it. “You’ve tried!”

“Occasionally. When I thought….”

“What?” This was like trying to pry a mushroom out of the bottom of the skinniest tube on a ‘vaporator. Or struggling to get that long, final, delicious draw off the minuscule stub of a spice stick— _No, bad Luke, bad thought!_

“I believed that perhaps I could heal myself with the Light. I was able to touch it, but as soon as I was successful, my pleasure over my achievement called to my Darkness. It became an impossible goal.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be now. I mean, _I’m_ here to… _augment_ your Light. Right? And I already was successful at a little healing—”

“Which almost killed you.”

“You’re being overly dramatic.” Luke checked their coordinates. “Almost to the jump point. Anyway, maybe we could practice that for the next couple days.”

“We won’t have much free time.”

“We’ll _make_ time,” he said firmly. “It’s good that you ordered the legs, but we need to do something with your armor and helmet, so—”

“I thought I would spray-paint them.”

“You did not! What I’m _trying_ to say, Dad, if you could be _all ears_ for a minute, is that maybe we can heal you enough so you don’t have to have to wear that enormous helmet. Your head is not that big! And you could have a smaller mask— if you absolutely _have_ to have something that stabs needles into your skull— and a partial respirator, and maybe one day—”

“Punch it, Sweetheart,” his father said, initiating the hyperspace coordinates, and the ship jerked as they jumped.

 _“What_ did you call me?” Incredulous (but not displeased) Luke stared at his dad. Star-streaks glistened across the helmet.

“Nothing.”

“You said _sweetheart_.”

A low chuckle came from the vocoder. “I was talking to Yahoo.”

“Oh, _sure.”_ Yeah, okay, maybe. Whatever, it was still a good opportunity to _augment_ his dad’s positive mood by teasing. “You never call _me_ that. You love the ship more than me.”

“Absolutely.” Vader folded his arms and continued looking out the viewscreen at the hypnotic smear of speeding lights.

“Ha!” Luke snorted. There was a time when he might have believed it, but that time was long past. “Anyway, I don’t mind whatever baby names you want to call me, just don’t say them in front of your crew.”

“Noted.” His father was completely unruffled and at least a little amused. “When we exit hyperspace, I will pilot.”

Luke uttered a whine of disappointment, mainly because his dad expected it, but also because his dad obviously didn’t want to continue the healing conversation. However, the seed was planted. “Whhhyyyyy?”

Vader chuckled. “Because you will be preoccupied with gawking. It’s quite an impressive sight.”

“I’ll bet.” He yawned. “Hey, remember when you captured Princess Leia?”

“No.”

He tsk’d. “Next time I harass you, consider the source. I inherited my smart-assedness from you.”

“I concur.”

“Good, because it’s impossible to argue with the truth. Anyway… when you held her, you didn’t torture her, did you?” Because how could he ever ever _ever_ tell Leia about their relationship if she hated his dad for a personal reason like torture.

“Of course not. I spared her because I knew you have feelings for her.”

Oh, great. “I don’t—”

“She would be a fine mate for you. Spirited, intelligent, determined. She reminds me of your mother.”

Uh…. “Uh…. I, uh, don’t… uh…. Never mind. Uh… I’ll go put my armor on. If you can handle Yahoo by yourself for a few minutes…?”

“I believe that I can manage this ship easier than you can dress yourself.”

“Nobody puts buckles on gloves!” Luke complained as he carried his armor to the cot. “Nobody except you,” he muttered under his breath, but smiled when he heard a sound that he knew was a chuckle.

# # #

“There’s no reason to be nervous. You look impressively fierce.”

“Thank you, and I’m not nervous,” he retorted automatically. “Well… okay, maybe a little.” Shivering, he pulled the Force around him like a blanket, not sure _how_ he did it, but simply accepting that he could. His father’s presence was like a hot, burning lamp in the cold. “What do _you_ feel?”

A twitch of one finger brushed away his question.

“You’re not… happy,” Luke persisted. “Not really even excited.”

Nothing, just flickering of that dark light.

“You can tell me.” _I’m the only person you can tell your secrets to. Your feelings. You know that._ “What’re you feeling? I can sense it, but I don’t understand it.”

With a slight gesture of his head, Vader snapped harshly, “Trapped. I feel trapped. In a position, in a life, now in a command that may as well be a prison.”

Luke rubbed his temple. How quickly his dad’s mind could turn and plummet like an out-of-control ship. “We’re going to change your life. You don’t have to keep existing alone, I’m here with you. Already nothing is the same as it was— your future is being remade. We’re going to win against Palpatine, and you’ll be free.”

 _Maybe_. He heard the silent agony in that one thought.

“Dad… we’re going to do it together.”

“What if we lose?”

Luke considered what to say, how to find a reassurance that was true. “Even if we lose, we’ll go down fighting and take him with us. Let’s promise that.”

“You are _not_ going to die.” His father swore under his breath.

“Language!” Luke chastised with a grin. “Okay, I promise not to die, and you promise the same thing! Let’s shake on it.” He held out his hand.

After a pause, Vader grasped it in his big grip. “Very well, I won’t argue with you.”

“As well you shouldn’t!” He kept smiling, but inside he was relieved that he’d put the brakes on another emotional rollercoaster. Which reminded him….

“Have you ever been on a rollercoaster? I’ve never even seen one. Maybe we can do that someday.”

# # #

“Is that the shipyard?” He pointed to an unnaturally dark ‘star’ in the distance that appeared to glow with different colors like it was alive and morphing.

“That, little one, is the Executor. The shipyard is beyond it, casting a laserlight display, celebrating the arrival of its new commander.”

“Huh.” Luke struggled to remain unimpressed, like he saw giant monster ships every day. “See? I got the gloves buckled by myself.”

The highly polished helmet turned his way. “Took you long enough.”

He nodded, determined to carry out his mission of humor by acting blasé. His father reached out and brushed something off his tunic. Luke saw two gold sparkles stuck to the fingertips of the black gauntlet. “You gave the stuff to me,” he defended to preempt a scolding.

“Never again. In the future if you choose to create artwork, use a stylus.”

He searched for a comeback and found one that was totally unrelated. “Hey, did you bring the baby rattle?”

“No. Why? Do you need something to teethe on?”

 _Hrmph._ His father was almost as quick as _he_ was. Almost. “I was going to suggest that you wear it around your neck to warn people that you’re coming.” He could have carried on in that vein, but when the four TIEs changed formation so there were two on either side of Yahoo, making a straight line, he felt subdued and maybe even overwhelmed by the reality of where he was going.

“You will walk behind me on my left. Keep your face hidden beneath the hood. I will introduce you to certain people at some point. Until then, do not speak.”

“So I’m going to look like your apprentice? But I want to say hi to Capt— Admiral Piett! Do you think he’ll remember me?”

“Vividly. But what did I just say?”

Luke sighed. Sometimes his life was reduced to a series of reminders. _“Don’t speak._ Fine, I’ll be quiet and not—- Holy Sith-hell! Look at the _size_ of that thing!”

As they drew ever closer, the Executor looked like a metropolis hanging in space, still dozens of kilometers away. They were aiming at a bright spot in the center of the ship, and Luke couldn’t see both ends without moving his head back and forth. What looked like hundreds of different types of TIEs and shuttles he’d never seen before were parading in front of a huge black spear. Colorful lights waved along the upper region of the ship, but the underside was almost invisible in the darkness of space. 

Awed and a little subdued, he watched in silence. Not only was the ship magnificent— and terrifying if he thought about its gazillion weapons— but all this ceremony was to honor his dad. His dad _commanded_ this ship— _all_ these ships, all these people and weapons. They all did what he said. It was easy, sometimes, to forget his father’s position in the Empire. Seeing this official respect made him wonder if _he_ should be more respectful. Maybe even timid. Maybe he should address his dad as _my lord_ and bow and kneel and be more—

“Seriously?” his father said under his breath.

He shot the Sith an uncertain look. “Maybe.”

“I am content,” his father stated, “to have one person in the galaxy who is not intimidated by me.”

Luke grinned. “I guess you don’t mean Palpatine!”

“Oh, right. I forgot about him. One-and-a-half people then.”

He laughed, his nerves pushed aside by his delight. Moments like this were when he knew he was in the presence of Anakin Skywalker, the one before the disaster, the one who loved flying and rescuing and the pure joy of living. “I like you,” he said, just to be sure his dad knew.

“I know. Now be quiet and watch.”

They were approaching the entrance to the hangar bay. Now he _really_ couldn’t see both ends of the ship— it stretched forever and was so black that it simply vanished. Imagine if it arrived at a planet during the night! It would be completely invisible. He wondered if it would make a loud noise in atmo or if it would just suddenly, silently, loom over the population like a specter of death. “How do you even _steer_ something this big? Hey! Brilliant idea! We can hijack it and land on an empty planet and colonize it because this is as big as a city.”

Yahoo glided slowly into a large, highly polished hangar that was lined with officers in dress uniforms, gray and black and white, and phalanxes of stormtroopers, their armor reflecting on the shiny deck, all lined up neatly in groups with different insignias. There was the blue-badged 501st, of course, and the rest he supposed he should learn about— although if he learned too much, he might blab to the Alliance. Should he warn them about this ship or did they already know or…?

His life was complicated.

“Geez, there’s a _band,”_ he observed with interest. “Are they going to play music?”

“Yes,” his father said, resignation heavy in his voice. “Pull up your hood, and remember to stay behind me. We will get through this nonsense as quickly as possible.”

 _Yeah, like I’d even THINK of marching in front of Darth Vader!_ He stood, surprised to notice that he was shaking slightly, but he gathered his courage and followed the Sith from the safety of Yahoo.

“Welcome aboard, my lord.”

That was Piett’s voice! Luke really wanted to say hi, but he kept his head down, eyes locked on the deck. Mostly. He could see the Admiral’s boots that were as reflective as the floors. If he moved closer, maybe he could see his own face in them. But his dad was in the way.

“Admiral. Congratulations on your command.”

Vader and Piett began to walk, and Luke stayed closely behind. His father’s cloak brushed his toes, so he backed off a step. He felt Piett’s curiosity about him, but the officer didn’t dare ask a question.

“My command is thanks to you, my lord. I am grateful.”

“If you didn’t deserve it, you wouldn’t have it.” Vader was adopting that growling tone he used around other people. “You have arranged the meeting as I instructed.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, my lord. If you—”

The band began to play. Luke swallowed a giggle. It was a martial tune with a distinct cadence, and his dad quickened his pace, deliberately not in time with the music.

Luke was finding that more difficult. His feet wanted to prance to the beat, and he had to almost _drag_ them to keep them sedate.

“Apologies, my lord. The Emperor insisted that you receive a formal greeting.”

His dad grunted and paused, his cloak swishing to a stop before another pair of highly polished boots. “General Veers.”

“My lord. Welcome back.”

Oooh, he’d heard of General Veers! Luke was dying to peek, but stomped down his curiosity. Patience. _Patience patience patience._ He clenched his fists and felt the two officers stiffen when they noticed his gesture.

“Thank you, General. Admiral, the meeting will begin now.”

“The conference room is ready, my lord, if you’ll follow me—”

“I know the way, Admiral. The layout of the ship is not a mystery to me.”

 _Of course it isn’t._ Luke sighed. _I’m hungry. Will there be donuts at the meeting?_

“My associate requires refreshment,” Vader said, surprising and pleasing Luke to the nth degree.

“Of course, my lord. I will have him escorted to guest quarters on Level—”

“He will occupy my quarters, and he will attend the meeting.”

“Of course, my lord,” Piett said smoothly, not betraying what he must wonder about Darth Mysterioso.

_Donuts? Can we have donuts?_

_Stop thinking about food,_ his father Sent.

_Oh, sure. You know the one sure way to get me to think about something is to tell me NOT to. Now I can’t stop thinking about donuts._

_Indeed? Well then… there is not time for you to use the ‘fresher, so don’t even think about it._

Luke almost gasped. _That’s MEAN!_

But it worked, because now he couldn’t stop thinking about something other than donuts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ♥️ father and son so much. 🥰


	6. The Executor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conspirators meet; Luke and Vader do some fluffy (of course) bonding.♥️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one week!! 😊 But only because I’m stuck inside due to thick and disgusting wildfire smoke. ☹️ Since it’s not going to dissipate, maybe I’ll write more in the coming week. Fluff or conspiracy?
> 
> I vote for fluff, but I’m open to suggestions. 😉

Luke tagged along behind his father with Veers and Piett trailing them. Really, he couldn’t help but strut a little as he caught reflections of himself on the highly polished walls. _Fiercely intimidating, that’s me!_

“Gentlemen.”

_Yay, you’re talking nice to your co-conspirators. I’m proud of you!_

There were three human men waiting in the conference room, which was, of course, boring gray like everything in every Imperial ship ever. Except for the ridiculously long table, which was shiny _dark_ gray. There was nothing on it but a pitcher of water and glasses. _Water!_ Suddenly he was very, very thirsty.

He expected his father to sit at the head, but he didn’t. Vader stood in front of the second seat and silently directed Luke to his left. One of the strangers was on his dad’s other side, and the others were opposite. Luke recognized Captain Gallia, his dad’s code-cracker from Vjun. Everyone remained standing, looking thirsty.

Vader nodded to the man on his right. “Captain Erv LeKauf, my personal aide.”

Obviously they all knew each other, so Luke supposed this introduction was for him. _Can I look up?_

_No. And don’t speak, honeybun._

_Don’t— WHAT did you call me?_

_Per your instructions, I am not calling you baby names in front of my crew. They can’t hear me._

Oh great. How was he supposed to be serious if Vader called him stuff like that?

 _So just what does your personal aide do?_ That your son couldn’t, he thought with a touch of completely illogical resentment.

_He orders your clothes, bug._

_Oh, great. He knows my inseam._ There was something weird about someone knowing how short he was. _Exactly, to the millimeter._ Now he understood why Bren Quersey had been ticked off at him. Although Quersey was tall, so why would he—

_Focus._

Right. He relied more on the Force than his eyesight to differentiate between the men because Darth Mysterioso’s hood shaded some of his vision. _But I’m really thirsty._

”Commander Daine Jir of the 501st.”

 _Great cheekbones. He could use a facial though. Maybe you could send him to a spa._ The other men were a little older than his dad, 40’s probably, but Jir appeared to be a few years younger and cute, just not well taken care of. Appearances were important!

“General Maximilian Veers.”

He peeked a little. Definitely not someone he wanted to mess with or meet in battle. His expression was set in stern lines. Luke wondered if he ever laughed. Or even smiled. He might injure his face if he tried.

“You know Captain Gallia, and of course, you remember Admiral Piett.”

Luke inclined his head ever so slightly. Piett remained composed but was obviously at a complete loss. General Veers sent him a non-look look that consisted only of a mild tensing in his shoulders. Piett answered him with an extra blink. Interesting. Close friends then. There must be something appealing in Veers, because Piett was so darn nice.

“This is Luke Skywalker.”

_Now with the hood?_

_Now. But don’t sp—_

“Hi, Cap— sorry, _Admiral!”_ He pushed back the hood until it fell to his shoulders and he smiled eagerly. “Remember me?? Luke?? I’m really glad to see you again!”

Piett’s eyes darted once between him and Vader before he regained his composure. Still, he said, just like his dad had predicted, “I remember you _vividly._ Hello, Luke.”

Veers and Piett shared another silent communication that made Luke suspect that the Admiral had told the General stories about the young troublemaker under Vader’s protection. Luke avoided looking at Veers because he could feel waves of disapproval emanating from the officer.

“Luke created havoc and destruction when he was last here,” his father stated bluntly.

“I did not!” He turned to Piett for support. “Right? It was just a decontam spill, no big deal.”

“Well, Luke….” Piett struggled to form tactful words. “There was… the incident in the ceiling duct.”

“I didn’t do anything! I was just _there!_ _He_ cut the ceiling open!” With a tilt of his head, he indicated the Dark Lord.

The Admiral cleared his throat. “And then there was—”

“Perhaps you can reminisce another time,” Vader interrupted, an edge to his voice. “The meeting is convened.”

Luke supposed this wasn’t a good moment to slide over the water pitcher that was just out of reach. He could use the Force, but maybe he was supposed to save that for a surprise.

They sat. “Progress reports.”

One by one, the four officers outlined their conspiratorial achievements and how each one’s task interacted and supported the other plans. Status of the viruses, readiness of the Naval fleet, tactical positions of the Army, ISB allies, locations of important power grid accesses… LeKauf didn’t say anything. Maybe he was just in charge of Vader. At least he’d be in charge after Luke left, because right now _he_ was in charge of his dad.

An ensign entered with a platter of food. Luke brightened when it was put on the table within his reach. No one else indulged, but he took a tiny sandwich that had something green inside and ate it in one bite. It was crunchy. During a pause in the recitals, he stood and reached for a glass and poured some of that beautiful, clear, delicious water that had been calling to him. “Anyone else?” he asked politely.

No one answered, but a few heads shook. He took a yellow veg stick and ate it between sips of the glorious water, then tried another mini-sandwich with yellow mushy stuff oozing out. Maybe it was an egg.

The entire _Luke as bait_ plot was a surprise to everyone. Vader introduced it simply by saying, “Skywalker will first confront and distract the Emperor. When the viruses are initiated and I arrive, he and I will engage Palpatine while the trap is sprung. We will _personally_ confront Palpatine, so timing must be perfect, and it is imperative that the Emperor is isolated from those troops who remain stubbornly loyal to him. Which is why, General Veers and Admiral Piett, you must not fail to coordinate your movements with the other commanders as well as with Commander Aouli who will activate the troops on Vjun. If we fail, everyone’s life will be forfeit.”

General Veers frowned slightly. “With all due respect, my lord, how will this Luke… _child… person..._ be—”

“Skywalker,” Luke reminded helpfully.

“How will Mr. _Skywalker_ distract the Emperor and delay him from rallying his troops and acting against us?”

_I don’t like ‘mister’. I should have a title._

_We’ll think of one, dumpling._

He turned a giggle into a cough, maybe not totally successfully, and took another sip of water to disguise it.

“The boy will fascinate him.”

 _That sounds creepy. Even your officers think so._ However, he didn’t look at his father and raised his chin, trying to appear confident, like he confronted Sith Emperors on a regular basis. _Calm, you must remain calm,_ Yoda said in his memory.

“Palpatine will wish to test his Force abilities, which are formidable, to learn if he can be…”

When Vader hesitated, Luke Sent, _please, please, PLEASE don’t say SEDUCED!_

“... turned to the Dark Side.”

 _Thanks, Dad!_ He flashed a grin at the others. “Don’t worry, I can’t be!”

“But he will try and that will occupy his attention because Luke can be… engaging.”

Oh, a compliment! His smile widened.

“Again, respectfully, my lord, we know each other and work well together.” General Veers was still frowning. “This _boy_ is a wild card. How can we trust him?”

 _Lord Vader buys him beautiful clothing so he’s special somehow._ Luke distinctly heard LeKauf’s thought and leaned around his dad to look directly at him. The aide met his gaze momentarily before looking down.

“I trust him implicitly,” Vader said evenly. “He is my son.”

Yay, big reveal! Luke sent his father a Happy Smile, then watched the others.

Piett, for some reason, looked relieved. Maybe because he finally had the answer to a mystery. The frown on Veers’s face flat-lined, and he sent Piett a _why-didn’t-you-tell-me_ look, which Piett answered with a barely noticeable shrug. Gallia smirked, Jir was indifferent, and LeKauf seemed pleased and also relieved. Why were people looking relieved? Really, was it such a surprise?

“There is one more thing I am about to tell you. Only the people in this meeting will be informed that in my former life, I was Jedi Anakin Skywalker.”

A ripple of shock went around the table. Except for LeKauf, who obviously knew.

“If that information goes beyond this room, lives will be lost.”

Luke sighed. _Stop threatening people! Besides—_ He cleared his throat. “The Emperor knows.”

Pause. “Obviously.”

“And Captain Jovay.”

“Yes.”

Luke fidgeted, then wound his fingers together. “And we’re just assuming that Kenobi is dead, but if he’s not, he knows.”

The Sith Lord folded his hands on the table and waited, the helmet turning toward him.

Luke cleared his throat. “Oh, and what about Bail Organa? Does he know?”

“Why would Organa know?” his father asked, perplexed.

 _Oh, krit!_ “Uh… I just thought maybe because he was a Senator and… you know….” _A senator who knew my mother, right? A Separatist conspirator?_

He held his breath until Vader accepted that reason because, geez, he’d almost blown the Leia secret.

“Organa does not know. Is there anyone else you’d care to name, Son?”

“Well… there’s the Mos Eisley guy who took my blood. And whoever who ran it through the system. And anyone that person or droid told. Although technically, I guess they don’t know you’re Vader too.”

The Dark Lord continued to look at him without responding.

“Oh! What about the Falleen, Jaslin Xenar? And whoever _he_ told.”

No response.

“And what about the doctor on the Devastator?”

His dad’s thumbs rubbed together as if they itched.

“And of course Master Kodra… right?”

“Anyone else?” Vader hissed in a tone that made a few of the others shift uneasily in their chairs. “Your Friend Wes, for example?”

 _“No!_ I haven’t told _any_ of my friends!” He shot his father between his lenses with a resentful glare. “I don’t want you killing them!”

The lenses appeared impervious to the strike. “Anyone else?” he repeated.

“Huh. Well… I feel like I’ve forgotten— Oh, right!” He smiled apologetically. “Umm... the entire Rebel Alliance Command.”

“What?” General Veers snapped. Both Vader and Luke ignored him.

“Are you quite finished?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe? I’ll think about it more.”

“Evidently I need to cancel my threat,” Vader said drily, and LeKauf chuckled, which did not appear to surprise the others. “Luke has been embedded with the Rebellion for the last year.”

 _“Embedded?_ I’m not a spy!”

“Not deliberately,” his father agreed, which wasn’t reassuring. “He’s going back in a few days.”

Luke sighed. His life was _so_ complicated! He took another sandwich and then remembered: “Oh, yeah— Security Chief Nikran. He’s in prison, but he’s probably still angry that I killed his nephew.” He took a dainty bite of the sandwich. “Although he just knew about Anakin’s name, maybe he didn’t know who you…. Well… and you killed the generals who knew, so… and I don’t know if Nikran actually knows that I killed his....” His voice trailed off as he realized everyone was staring at him. “Never mind.”

“We have much more work to do,” Captain Jir said, diverting attention from Luke. Which may or may not have been deliberate. “We haven’t made inroads into the Imperial City Protection Fleet.”

“I have people there,” Vader snarled in a voice that was made all the more scary because it was unexpected. He turned toward Luke and his tone softened. “The Emperor has instituted his own overthrow by pitting military, intelligence, and all the bureaus against each other as he continues to set himself up as the absolute ruler. As a result, he is seen as a destabilizing force on the Empire— not something the Moffs and Royal Houses want, obviously.”

“Or the Rebel Alliance,” Luke added. “What about the Death Star? Did that turn anyone against him?”

“To some extent. Not as much as it would have if it had actually destroyed a planet. However, between that and the widespread genocidal actions he’s ordered, his unpopularity is growing.”

“But….” He hesitated, and his father gestured to him to continue. “But you’ve carried out his orders.” He didn’t want to say _genocide,_ though it hung in the air like a pesky insect that he couldn’t shoo away. “Won’t you… that is, aren’t people against you, too?”

“Yes. But those in power crave stability, and if they will believe I will offer and enforce that, they will support my actions.”

_If you stay._

_Yes… if I stay._

Sometimes even good solutions sounded like bad solutions. Subdued, he looked down at the table.

“We are adjourned. When next we meet, we will discuss our timeline.” Vader stood, and everyone rose quickly.

Luke reached for a few more sandwiches, intending to hide them in his armor wrap for later, but the platter slid away. _Da-ad, I’m still hungry!_

# # #

His dad’s rooms were pretty much like they had been on the Devastator, just bigger. And gray. And devoid of anything beautiful. At least they were close to the bridge, which made sense. He supposed Vader wouldn’t want to be miles away from the action.

“You need some art. Or something cheerful. I could paint— no, maybe not.” He prowled all the rooms— office, living, bedroom, ‘fresher— oh, a giant dressing room! He’d inspect the contents later. There were a few other doors. “Where do these go?”

“That is Captain LeKauf’s quarters. There are yours.”

Hmm, LeKauf. He wondered how much time his dad spent with that guy. He scowled a little, but opened the door to his room. No— _rooms!_ Okay, this was better, they weren’t gray, they were pale blue with a wide window in the living area. There were comfortable furniture pieces that looked overstuffed and cozy, a small nook with a desk and all sorts of electronic devices on the shelves, and a big holoscreen. These weren’t standard officer quarters— these were _Luke_ rooms!

Just how long did his father expect him to stay? This looked like… permanence.

“Are there games?” He bit his lip, trying not to smile.

Vader stood with his arms folded, watching him look around. “Even some two-player games.”

Luke grinned. “Great!” He peeked into the bedroom. There was a bed so big that he would have to crawl across to get in and out. And there were two more doors. A ‘fresher, of course, and— “Yay, a dressing room! Are there clothes— _Dad!”_

The racks were lined with black and blue and ivory. It looked like duplicates of everything he owned, even boots. He sensed his father’s satisfaction at surprising him.

“This is great! But I have to ask… are there clothes for me scattered all around the galaxy?”

“Only if you left them there, honeybun.”

He giggled. “I mean, am I going to find clothes wherever I go?”

“Exactly where are you planning on going, young one?”

“Wherever you go, Dad.” He’d meant to tease, but it came out seriously. He looked at his father and his father looked at him. “I mean it,” he added. “No matter what.”

Vader sighed and was silent for a very long minute. Finally he said gruffly, “Very well. Right now, I’m going to inspect a few areas. If you would care to join me, change and meet in my office in fifteen minutes.”

“Do I have to wear—”

“No armor. Black with a cape.” His father hesitated, and Luke felt something like… _shyness?_

“What is it?”

Darth Vader turned away, then paused and faced him again, hands on hips. “I require a hug,” he demanded unexpectedly.

Without thinking further, Luke took two steps and flung his arms around his dad, squeezing as tightly as he could manage around those damn pauldrons and all the armor and the heavy cape. “I love you, too, cupcake!”

Vader reciprocated, pulling him into a tight embrace, and his big body shook with laughter. _“Cupcake?_ Are you hungry again, Son?”

“Not again. Still. I’m a growing boy.”

“Yes. My golden boy.” A heavy hand stroked his head. “I wish I hadn’t missed your early years. Now you’re almost grown up and soon you won’t need me.”

Diving mood alert! “Oh, really? So you’re saying that _you_ don’t need _me,_ Dad? Because you’re grown up.” He pulled his head back to look at the intimidating mask that disguised the strongest and most fragile man he’d ever known. “I don’t think needing and loving are feelings we ever get over. At least, _I_ have no intention of getting over them.”

“Nor do I.” His father pulled his head back to rest on the breast plate that was smooth and cool.

Luke sighed. “But what if I screw up like the Death Star? If I fail with Sidious, will you stop speaking to me again?”

“Luke, if either of us ‘screw up’, we won’t care because we’ll be dead. Or worse.”

“Worse? How? What’s worse than us both being dead?”

The vocoder rumbled into his hair. “One dead and one in the place I occupy now.”

Oh. Right. Why did life have to be so hard? They could’ve been farmers.

“And no matter what happens, I will never stop speaking to you again.”

“Are you sure?” He couldn’t help the doubt in his voice.

“I promise. I was an idiot then. Luke, I love you. You’ve shown me what unconditional love means and I want to… learn that.”

“It’s easy. It’s like what you get from a pet.” He loved what his dad was saying, but he wasn’t sure how to respond. _He_ was usually the one saying the emotional stuff. And he’d never had a pet, so he was just repeating what his friends had told him about how pets got excited and happy when they came home. Which, come to think of it, was a lot like he felt about his dad.

“Well, my little snuggle-bunny,” Vader pushed him away but didn’t release his arms, “go change if you’re coming with me. And try not to bring those sparkles with you.”

“What? Where are they?” He twisted and held up his arms. “Where?”

“On your back. In your hair.” His father chuckled. “You left sand on the Devastator. I suppose it’s fitting that you leave sparkles here.”

“I suppose.” He didn’t want to leave his dad long enough to go change, but the Dark Lord gave him a mental shove.

“There’s a duplicate of your new formal short cape in your closet.”

Really, his father was either becoming quite a fashion icon or he had always been one at heart. “I’ll bet you never wore those horrible Jedi robes, did you?”

“Never. Now go!” Vader raised one hand. “Unless you don’t want to see a hangar deck, an engine room, a cannon array, a recreation area, the officers’ mess— and maybe even one of the kitchens.”

 _Food!_ “I’m going, I’m going!” He whirled, then paused. “And later we’ll practice meditating Light, right? And you know that if you keep calling me baby names, you’re going to slip up and say it in front of the Admiral, right?”

_“GO!”_

So he did.

# # #


	7. Touring the Ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really need FLUFF today. 
> 
> Luke continues his campaign to tease some the Anakin out of Darth Vader as they tour the ship. Vader endures without complaint… and possibly even enjoys it.

# # #

“Remove the cape.”

“Why?” He unfastened it at the throat, and his father took it and tossed it over a chair. “It looks good.” Indeed, _he_ looked good, trim and handsome in black. It was the best physical shape he’d ever been in in his life, and the belt accentuated his slim waist and hips and broad (for him) shoulders. He turned one way then another, preening in the dressing room mirrors.

“There’s no longer any need to hide your lightsaber.” Vader tugged the shoulders of his tunic, straightening them pointlessly. “That’s better.”

He smirked and reciprocated, brushing his arms along Vader’s cloak from shoulders to wrists. There was nothing wrong with their clothes, but touching made him feel good— and his dad too, evidently. “No sparkles,” he affirmed to his father’s silent query. “Where are we going first?”

“Did you study the schematics?”

“Yes, sir! But I didn’t _memorize_ them, the ship is too big. And I don’t know what those weird horizontal lines mean.”

“Moving walkways for people and equipment. It’s the most efficient mode of traveling from one point to another. Now, bug, lead us to the bridge.”

 _“Bug?_ What is _with_ these nicknames?”

“I am trying out everything I can think of until I happen upon one that suits us both. Speaking of which—” Vader folded his arms “—have you selected a diminutive for me yet?”

“Was I supposed to?” he parried. “You mean ‘Dad’ isn’t good enough?” No reply. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

Really, what sort of nickname could he give to a Sith Lord? A baby name? _Sithy? Lordy? Big guy?_ No, it would have to be something more personal. _Daddykins?_ Luke stifled a groan.

“The bridge,” Vader reminded.

Good thing it was on this level, because that was the only bit of the hundreds of screens of schematics that he’d looked at. And it wasn’t very far. “Follow me,” he said, full of confidence, which Vader shattered immediately by saying:

“After that, you can take us to the main hangar and an engine room. And, if you’re a good boy, the kitchen for the officers’ mess.”

“Sure thing, shaak daddy,” and he winced when Vader mentally echoed his pained moan. It sounded much worse out loud than it had in his head.

# # #

“Don’t you believe in railings?” First, Vjun, now this. It was the same set-up as the Devastator’s bridge. “Don’t people fall off?” A slight smile crossed his face as he trotted behind his father because they couldn’t walk side by side on this ridiculous raised aisle, not with that gigantic cape swaying and flapping. With his luck, it would wrap between his legs and _he’d_ be the one tumbling off.

“There would be a harsh penalty for anyone daring to fall.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Luke raised his voice. “Hi, Admiral! ...General.” What, were they glued together? Who needed an Army general on the bridge of a Navy ship?

_Veers doesn’t like me._

_Veers doesn’t like anyone. He is a consummate professional who has reached his pinnacle of achievement in the Imperial Army and he knows it._

Huh. _He likes Piett._ Okay. Still, maybe he could be charmed. Luke smiled at him and got nothing in return. In fact, Veers didn’t even look at him. Piett, on the other hand, greeted him warmly. Well… with a nod anyway.

_You may view the work stations of the officers, but stay attuned to our conversation._

Sounded interesting. He supposed there were stairs that went into the pit from somewhere, but it was faster to jump down. So he did, landing lightly.

Piett murmured something.

“He excels in gymnastics,” Vader stated in his sonorous voice.

Luke hid his smile as he peered at an officer’s screen over his shoulder. It was one thing for Vader to tell _him_ that he was proud, but he’d never heard his father boast about him. Although to be fair, this was the first time Vader had the opportunity to boast. Well, Luke wasn’t going to let him down.

“What are you tracking, lieutenant?” He knew, of course, but showing off was one of his strengths.

“It’s rather technical, sir.” The man was older, probably career military and while unsure of Luke’s status and unwilling to dismiss him, he wasn’t about to explain his task to a youngster.

“It looks like you’re monitoring the neutron flux level of the reactor core. Wouldn’t that normally be done in the reactor control room?”

“It is.” The lieutenant was obviously surprised. “However, a task of such importance has multiple redundancies.”

Luke nodded and moved to the next officer. “Ah, astrogation! The calculations involved in plotting jumps fascinate me.” He feigned more interest than he felt. Sure, the study could be absorbing, but he was just showing off for his dad.

And to good result, because he felt warm approval radiating from his father.

“You said he’s a Force user,” the general murmured evenly, but Luke understood the implication.

“He is, though he doesn’t require its use to augment his achievements. He is highly educated in all fields.”

“Still….”

Oh-oh. Luke turned his head to watch the fireworks. However, his father was remarkably restrained. “Skywalker is the future of the galaxy, General. I suggest you remember that.”

Luke continued around the work stations, observing without interrupting anyone else. He was concentrating on the conversations between his dad and the officers, and he felt when his father’s patience was waning. So he flexed his knees and leaped back onto the walkway, landing neatly beside them.

“I’m surprised” —he smiled at General Veers— “that there’s a problem with the speeder hydraulics in cold weather. Your mechanics haven’t been able to find the cause of the problem? I could have a look if you’d like. I’m pretty good with machinery.”

“He is,” his dad affirmed when Veers’s face looked as frozen as one of his speeders.

“It’s hereditary.” Luke’s grin widened. “Hint, hint.”

“Are you suggesting that _I_ work on the hydraulics?”

“Perish the thought, sir,” he scoffed. _But it would be fun, wouldn’t it?_

Veers looked bemused while Piett did not appear surprised in the least. Obviously he’d been with Vader long enough to know that the Dark Lord loved working on his ships.

“We will depart at 0400 tomorrow,” his dad told Piett, then turned to Luke. “Come, we have more to see.”

_Really— 0400? That’s the middle of the night! What’s the rush?_

He was not disappointed. He hadn’t expected an answer and didn’t get one. With a wave to the two officers, he followed Vader off the bridge.

It was like hours and hours later when they boarded yet another lift to yet another gray corridor. It was busy with troopers and civilians with badges. Luke sighed.

“Dad… I’m tired. Are we done yet?” His feet felt like they wanted to fall off. The soles were numb. He shouldn’t have worn his dress boots. The wraps wouldn’t have looked as smart, but they would’ve been comfortable.

“We have more to see. Do you need me to carry you?”

For a half-second, Luke hoped his father was serious. He bit his lip to avoid shouting _YES!_ “No,” he said sulkily.

“You can draw on the Force for endurance— you know this.”

“Yeah, but—”

 _“Yeah, but_ the more often you say ‘Dad’ when staff members are nearby, the sooner you will have to leave. I trusted my top-level officers to hand-pick a loyal crew. Still, Palpatine may have an assassin on board who would foolishly take an opportunity to attack you.”

Luke sighed. “I thought _you_ were his assassin. And _fine,_ I can use the Force for energy, but not for food! The Emperor won’t need an assassin, I’m already dying of hunger.”

“Then we will make a kitchen our last stop. Perhaps with your dramatic abilities, you can charm samples from the chefs.”

“Chefs?” Luke perked up. “Not just cooks? You have chefs? Real chefs who make fancy food?”

“Get on the mover.”

“Where— Oh!” Geez, the walkway was moving faster than it looked. His father planted his feet on it like a giant tree, but Luke had to scamper to balance. He grinned. “This is fun!”

“Perhaps you’d like to spend the rest of the evening riding lifts and movers?”

“Kinda. Although that would be very childish. Just how young do you think I am?”

“Sometimes I wonder. Now— jump!”

What? But he leaped off along with his father. Ten meters farther, the walkway came to a stop to discharge riders. He sent a dark look to his dad, then shook his head and laughed. “I know— your nickname can be _Mischief!_ Like it?”

“If that’s the best you can do.”

He rolled his eyes and almost retorted, but stopped when he smelled something baking. “Stars! That smells wonderful!” Immediately he felt sorry that his father couldn’t eat it… but at least Vader could smell it.

This time he stepped in front of the Dark Lord and led the way toward the aroma.

# # #

“I’m _exhausted!”_ Luke yawned, his stomach full after lots of treats plus a full meal, including a warm fruit pie for dessert. The pie had been topped with a mound of something soft and green that turned out to be very, very sweet. Amazing. He might point out to his dad that he needed additional gastronomical education. Like… more samples. “Before you take your mask off, would you call me ‘honeybun’ again?” 

“Why?”

“Don't be so suspicious! Just say it.” When his father didn’t immediately obey, Luke relented. “Okay, because it sounded funny through your vocoder.”

 _“Funny?_ My magnificent tones sounded ‘funny’?”

He nodded and waited eagerly. “C’mon, say it!”

Vader pulled himself as straight as he possibly could and uttered in his fiercest, loudest, world-shattering, rumbling-like-thunder voice: _“HONNNNEYYYBUUUUNNNN!”_

A container of styluses on the table rattled and fell over. Luke burst into laughter and fell onto the sofa, clutching his stomach as he howled.

On the desk, the comm beeped. Vader pressed a button. “Yes?” he responded quietly as Luke covered his mouth to stifle his mirth.

“My lord, is everything all right?” LeKauf sounded only mildly alarmed. Luke figured roars sometimes issued from His Lordship’s office, but probably not _honeybun._

“Everything is fine, Captain.” Vader paused. “As long as my son is in residence, you should anticipate sudden loud noises.”

“...Very well, m’lord.” Obviously amused, the aide disconnected.

Luke let his laughter ricochet around the room. “Oh, _sure_ , blame _me!_ He knows that was _you!”_ He was certain that the weird gurgling was his dad laughing. “But thanks— that was grrrrreat!”

“I’m glad you are amused at my expense.” Vader’s fake growl only made Luke giggle more. “I’m going to change and have TwoOneBee check for any issues.”

“Where are you going?” He sat up, immediately on alert. “Is something wrong? Don’t you feel well?”

“Stop fretting. I have a treatment room and bacta tank on the other side of the dressing room.”

“Oh.” Some day they wouldn’t have to worry about such things. “Do you need bacta now?”

“Not unless TwoOneBee has a concern. Now go play one of those dozens of games I ordered for you.” Vader disappeared into the dressing room.

Luke sighed. Probably Captain LeKauf ordered them. The comm sounded again. He glanced toward the dressing room and shrugged before getting up and pressing the button. “Lord Vader’s office, Luke speaking.”

There was a distinct hesitation before: “This is Admiral Piett. Please tell his lordship that the Emperor wishes to make contact.”

Ugh. “I’ll tell him, thanks.” He disconnected before shouting, “Dad! The Emperor wants to talk to you. Shall I take the call?”

“No!” There were a few mumbled curses before his father stomped back into the room, fastening his cape.

“Good thing you hadn’t gotten all changed,” Luke noted sympathetically. “Or is he used to seeing you in your bathrobe? When he calls you,” he added hastily.

“Never. Though sometimes he has to wait, because he’s a master of bad timing. You—”

“Who, me?” Luke grinned.

“Go into your quarters. I will take the call here.”

“Where?”

“Luke!” Even though he sounded exasperated, Vader pointed to his desk. “The holoprojector.”

“Oh. I thought that might be just for snaps of me!” he called over his shoulder as he retreated to his rooms.

Even with his ear pressed to the door, he couldn’t hear the conversation. After a couple minutes, his door opened and almost he fell over his father’s boots.

“I will tell you what he said, you don’t need to spy.”

“Really? Are you sure I’m not _embedded_ here?”

Vader sighed. “Come to the treatment room and help me take this mask off.”

 _With all those needles?_ “Shouldn’t TwoOneBee do that? I don’t want to hurt you.”

His dad removed the helmet as they walked and laughed a little. “I assure you, _honeybun,_ removing the mask is—”

“Please don’t say it’s like plucking hairs!”

“I did not intend to. But removing the mask is minor compared to other pain. While we are there,” Vader continued, forestalling Luke’s sad protest, “I will raise the oxygen level in my quarters. You may need to leave.”

“I can breathe just fine,” he defended. “I use the Force for _endurance,_ remember? So what did the old Emperor want?”

“He was extending felicitations on my new command. Or so he said.”

“He probably just wanted to be sure you got the fruit basket he sent.” He watched his dad settle in the chair. “Hi, TwoOneBee!”

“Hello, Sir Garven. Let me do that, my lord.” The droid lowered robotic claws that slowly removed the mask.

He flinched. “I changed my name. I’m Luke now. Luke Skywalker.”

“Very well, Luke Skywalker.” The droid seemed to sigh a little— but wasn’t that impossible? Really, Luke worried that he was imbuing too much humanity into a machine. Still… as near as he could tell, without much personal experience, droids seemed to have a fear of memory erasure, which must be like life to them. TwoOneBee wasn’t afraid of being shut off, so— or wait, _was_ he? Now Luke was worried even more.

“Just call me Luke.”

His dad stood and began to remove his armor. There sure was a lot of it and it clanked as it landed on the floor. When Vader got down to his bodyglove, he looked pointedly at Luke. “Do you mind?”

“No, go ahead.” But he grinned and turned around. “Let me know when you’re decent.”

“You will be waiting a very long time if that is your hope.”

He hated when jokes turned into something serious. “I know.” At least he had hopes other than that one. “Can we meditate Light later? Try a little healing?”

“We’ll see. Although I seem to remember that you are _exhausted.”_

“I’ve had a miraculous recovery,” he said cheerfully. “Food will do that to a guy.” He listened to the rustling of fabric. _“_ Hey, TwoOneBee? Is there technology to grow organs? Or clone them?”

“Certainly cloning is possible. I do not know about—”

“What?!” Luke turned quickly, focusing on the droid, then looked at his dad who sat down again and clutched the crumpled bodyglove around his midsection. “Dad! Did you know that? You could get new lungs! Right, TwoOneBee?”

“Just call me Two,” the droid said casually, earning an incredulous stare from the Sith. “I can’t imagine why it has never been suggested, my lord. It would be expensive, but I doubt that finance is a prohibitive issue for you.”

“Wow.” For a moment, Luke was distracted. “Who programmed you, Two?”

“I do not know, Luke. One moment I didn’t exist and the next moment I did.”

“That’s true for all of us,” he agreed when his father seemed disinclined to respond. _This is one weird droid, Dad._ “You wanna order new lungs? How long will it take to get them?”

Vader held up one hand. “I need more information before I seriously consider this, Luke. I believe inserting lungs would be a complex and lengthy procedure that would put me out of commission for an extended time.”

“A truer statement has never been made,” Two observed.

They both looked at him. Or was Two a ‘her’? Whatever, he or she was definitely not an ‘it’. “Well, what about growing new ones? I mean, repairing the current ones, like regrowing them or something? Without surgery. Using Force healing.”

“I will research that, Luke, although I do not believe I will find definitive documentation regarding the impact of the Force on healing.” TwoOneBee stepped back. “Your synth skin is doing nicely, my lord. I see no issues with it. Even your feet are holding up.”

 _Mine aren’t._ “Great! I’ll go get your robe and then we can meditate. Two— you’re a prince!”

“I am?” The droid’s head jerked back. “Prince TwoOneBee. Is that my full name?”

Luke inhaled and considered what to say. “Would you like it to be?”

 _What are you doing?_ His father stared at him, and Luke shrugged.

“I believe I would,” Two declared. “You may address me as ‘Prince’.”

“What? After all we’ve meant to each other?” Luke teased. “I thought we were beyond titles.”

“Oh. Very well.” The droid fussed with the tools he hadn’t needed, rearranging them on the medical table. “You both may call me ‘Two’. However, I will introduce myself to my peers as ‘Prince TwoOneBee’.”

“Perfect.” After all this, he would feel bad turning off Two. “Do you need recharging?”

“If you have no further need of me tonight, yes, I would like that.”

“Okay! I’ll be right back with the robe. Don’t go anywhere!” he teased his dad.

“Where would I go?” Vader responded wearily.

“I will not allow him to flee,” Two stated firmly.

Oh, boy. This was getting strange. Luke decided _he_ should be the one to flee. “B-R-B,” he called.

“Who is BRB? I am not familiar with that designation,” he heard Two query, and he paused for his dad’s response:

“Disregard his statement. Luke is a member of a highly sophisticated, illogical, completely inexplicable species— a teenager.”

“Noted,” Two said briskly as Luke hurried away.

# # # 


	8. Underwater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aboard the Executor, Luke solves a challenge— then he and Vader face a catastrophe.

# # #

“Yow!” Luke yelped, clutching his wrist.

“I know that didn’t hurt.” His father relaxed in his overstuffed chair, one ankle resting atop the other knee.

“I was just… surprised.” He glared at his bracelet. “There’s a spy device here! In your _quarters!_ And _you_ put it here!”

“And now _you_ need to find it,” Vader said calmly.

“Oh, great, it’s a test!” Frowning, he stood. “Fine! How?”

Folded arms told him that he would have to figure this out himself.

“Well….” He walked slowly toward the door. No clue. Was he supposed to see something obvious or…?

When he crossed closer to the entrance, his bracelet vibrated just a hair. Literally. Luke stopped. He moved to the left and felt nothing. To the right, he felt another zing. He turned his head and grinned. “Okay, this is a game. Cool.”

“Cool,” his dad echoed, answering his smile.

He continued, following the increasing prickling on his arm. At one point, it slowed and he backed up. Here, in the wall. He ran his fingers along a seam, then around the bottom of a shelf. A miniscule bump alerted him, and he pried it off gently, holding it up. “Got it!”

“Good job, Son. Now what?”

He stared for a second, uncertain, then squeezed the bug between his right fingers. It squished like a real bug and his bracelet quit nagging him.

His father laughed. “In real life, perhaps you would wish to merely disable it so you can trace its origin.”

“But how?”

“Open it either by prying— or use the Force— and you will see how it operates and can then look for clues.”

“Okay.” Luke cocked his head. “So did I ‘excel’ in spy-detecting too?”

“Definitely.” Still amused, Vader beckoned him, and Luke plopped on the sofa, turning sideways to sit cross-legged so he could stare at his dad. 

“When I go back to the Alliance, will _your_ spy stuff set off my bracelet?”

“Of course.”

“Then how will I know if the spy stuff is yours or someone else’s?”

“You’ll recognize mine just as you recognized this one. I imbued them with my Force signature.”

“The Force has a signature?” 

“In a manner of speaking. You’ve experienced my signature— it’s how you recognize me when we are meditating.”

“Yes!” Enthused, he sat up straight. “Do I have a signature too? Have I _imbued_ it everywhere I go, like all over Yavin?”

“It does not—” Vader figured out he was being teased. “Everyone has a signature. Unless you believe I habitually meditate with strangers.”

He smirked. “I dunno, Dad, do you? The answer had better be _no!”_ Another thought raced into his brain and out his mouth. “Hey— will I be able to detect your stalker with the bracelet?”

His father was silent, but Luke sensed the question unsettled him.

“I _will!_ Hah! I’ll know who it is so I can avoid them!”

“I have more than one spy on your base,” Vader stated complacently. “You won’t know who is who.”

Luke pouted. “So what good will this bracelet do me if all the spies belong to you?”

“Just because the Rebels are your companions,” the Sith pronounced carefully, “doesn’t mean they won’t try to obtain information to use against you— or me. You must be cautious with your words in the presence of your... the command staff.”

“I’m glad you didn’t say ‘your friends’ because I almost thought I heard that.” He pursed his lips. “Hey, does one of your spies work in the Command office? Because there’s a guy who’s made eye contact with me a couple times.”

Vader sighed.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

“Obviously he is not skilled in remaining inconspicuous. I’ll have him reassigned.”

“Well, you may as well leave him now that I know. And he’s not the stalker because he’s usually in the office.” He stretched his arms up and waved them, rotating his shoulders a few times. “You know,” he continued after a moment, “when you said I could come for a visit— and you had a whole _week—_ I was excited. But I never imagined things would turn out this… wonderful!” Other than the arguments, of course. And the mean things they’d said to each other. And the criticisms and— _Never mind!_

Vader was smiling again. No, not Vader. Luke was almost positive it was his Anakin side.

“What did you think?” he persisted. “Did you know it would… _we_ would turn out like this?”

The smile faded, but barely. “It has been beyond my imaginings also. I was… apprehensive.”

“You?” He propped his face in his hands, resting them on his knees. “You’re Darth Vader, why would you be nervous?”

“I’m also a father spending time with a son he wants to know better.” The yellow gaze slid away. “I wanted you to see me unmasked, but I was… I suppose ‘reluctant’ is the right word. I thought that you would be horrified, maybe even turn away. And….”

Luke waited with silent encouragement.

His father sighed. “I want to change my body. I thought you might motivate me or….”

He thought he understood. His dad hadn’t known how to fix what Palpatine did to him. Or maybe he’d been afraid to try. For all these years, Vader had been alone, with no one to talk to about his injuries, no one to share ideas with, no one to inspire him— or _shock_ him like the damn bracelet. Luke blinked, elated by the realization of what he’d done for his father. More important than the physical changes, he’d given his dad _hope._

“I’m glad,” he murmured inadequately. His feelings were stronger than any words he could form, so he opened his heart to his father and was rewarded with a flood of emotions in return.

For a moment, he saw his father’s spirit as it must have been once, luminous and clear. Luke held out his hands. “I think we should practice healing now. With the Light.”

A heartbeat of hesitation— and then perfect, skin-covered fingers were placed into his palms.

Luke opened himself to the Force, allowing it to rush over him like it had in his last meditation. It was a river of sensations, so strong and gushing that he had to dam some of it so he wouldn’t be submerged. His father answered, his Force robust and compelling, and it was as if their spirits linked together, bathing in the river— so close to drowning that it scared him. But his dad held on with a sturdy grip and they floated into—

 _Pain._ Pure torment streamed from his father, and Vader was alerted, trying to draw away from him, to keep the agonies to himself. _No_. Luke freed his hands and placed one on his father’s forehead, the other flat against his chest. Healing techniques could wait. If he— _they—_ could alleviate this pain, it would surely change his dad’s life.

The Force was golden waves; he imagined it to be like the sparkles that trailed behind him. He sprinkled them into the pain receptors, demonstrating how Vader could do it for himself. The Force hummed with intensity, fragments beating against his brain and around their hearts. His father grasped triumphantly at the offering, Darkness trembling at the edges of their bond.

 _Wait,_ Luke said, _wait._

The Sith resisted, glorying in the malevolence that rose to a crest, but the Father surrendered to his instruction, falling into the rhythm Luke emitted, gentling as the Light responded to his openness. _Yes…._ Luke soothed and cajoled, pushing the Dark away when it tried to subvert their efforts.

He moved his hands, hovering inches above, skimming his father’s arms and knees where the prosthetics attached, his throat and the top of his head, all those places where nerve endings sent pain to Vader’s brain. He did that until his father understood and could replicate the sensations and direct the Light for himself, sending it where it would give the most comfort.

At length they finished, and Luke sagged, tired but happy. His father said nothing. He didn’t need to. His eyes were blue. After awhile, Luke gave a nod and a small smile and left, knowing they would both sleep without nightmares tonight.

# # #

Sure, he slept peacefully— but for too long!

“You didn’t wake me!” Luke grumbled as he neared his father who stood on the bridge, arms behind his back, looking at shipyard lights that shone in the early dawn. “It’s nearly five-thirty!”

“You were sleeping soundly. I knew you were exhausted after our work last night.” His father’s voice was actually kind, and Luke saw Piett’s head turn in alert mode like a bird watching a predator.

“Thank you.” He returned the sweetness with a shy smile. “We’ll do that again today. I think we’re getting better at it.”

Vader’s hands unclasped and one big glove smoothed his hair, pushing back some unruly strands that fell to his eyebrow. “It takes time to prepare to move. They’ve never built a ship this size, so they are being appropriately cautious. You didn’t miss anything.”

He sighed happily and folded his arms, surreptitiously allowing his fingertips to rest delicately on his dad’s armored sleeve. It wasn’t rejected, even though Piett and General Veers noticed.

_We’re improving your image._

_Just be careful we don’t weaken it._

No chance of that. His dad would probably kill someone in the next few days and any attempt to soften his image would fly out the viewscreen.

But just for the fun of it, Luke Sent: _I require a hug._

_So do I. Hold that thought._

The Executor shuddered as more thrusters powered it into a minor move. “They are removing the last construction cranes, Luke,” Admiral Piett explained, “that were used for the final finishing— polishing and such.”

“Imagine polishing something this big!” He pictured workers with rags, though it was probably giant buffers running mechanically that did the job. He watched in anticipation, ready for the grand launching.

But it was anticlimactic. The ship left the dock without fanfare and traveled slowly into the darkness. On a viewer, he was able to look back and see the tiny lights of Kuat Shipyard that hovered above the planet. The sun was beginning to shimmer across the towers, and Luke reflected that it was a pity something so beautiful was used to create weapons.

“You have had the experience of the ship launching. Now, return to my quarters and assist Captain LeKauf. He is preparing materials for you to take.”

“Take?”

“Go now.” There was something in his father’s tone that he couldn’t pinpoint.

 _What’s going on, Dad?_ He noticed a muscle twitch in Veers’s cheek.

“Two unauthorized persons have been apprehended aboard. They carried no weapons or munitions materiel with them, but I suspect they are saboteurs or assassins. I will question them personally.” _You will not appreciate my method of questioning. Obey me, go to my quarters, and tamp down your Force awareness so you are not distressed. But remain wary._

 _How do I do both?_ Subdued, he nodded and left the bridge, casting a single look back at his father. Vader’s fists clenched, and Luke was very glad he wasn’t an ‘unauthorized person’. He spared a moment of compassion for the two people and hoped they weren’t members of the Alliance. He blocked most of his awareness as his dad had instructed and found Captain LeKauf sitting at his father’s desk.

“Hello, Luke… if I may call you that?”

“Of course.” He flopped into the chair across from the desk. “What’re you putting together for me?”

“Lord Vader has personal records for you, plus recordings of important battles.”

“Great. Battles. More dead people, just what I want to see.” What were _personal records?_ He studied the other man. “Why didn’t I meet you on the Devastator?”

“I was on an extended leave of absence. I returned shortly after you left.” Fingers flew across a screen that was loading information.

And that was that. He could’ve used the Force to pry a little, but decided to respect LeKauf and his father’s instructions. “Anyway, thanks for ordering clothes and stuff for me.” He shifted uncomfortably, feeling his father’s anger at the captives. He tried to refocus his attention.

“You’re quite welcome.” The face softened a bit.

“Did you know who I was?”

The shoulders shook slightly with restrained laughter. “No. I only knew what Admiral Piett told me at the time and he knew precious little. I thought— Well, never mind, it seems silly now.”

“What?” Luke leaned forward, the corners of his lips tilting upward. “Tell me! What did you think?”

“All those gifts and clothes… the best quality… I thought… Well….” LeKauf’s scarred face flushed. “I thought his lordship had finally fallen in love.”

“Ewww!” Luke laughed, flustered. “You mean all this time, you thought— I mean, it wasn’t until I was introduced at the meeting— Oh.” He felt his own cheeks heat. “That’s creepy!”

“Luke, loving emotions aren’t creepy.” LeKauf paused in his work and smiled. “When my grandson was born, of course I loved him immediately. I loved him _before_ he was born. But one day, a couple weeks after, I came into the room and he looked at me and he _knew_ me, he recognized me— and his eyes lit up and he smiled and his tiny hand reached out... and my heart was lost to him forever. I fell in love. So I understand what you and your father must have felt when you finally found each other.”

The short recitation made him feel glum. There had been no such moment for Vader and Son. They’d both been angry, at odds, arguing and forgiving— but never at the same time. Always out of step. The year on the Devastator and the year he’d been with the Alliance, they’d had so little deep communication. Yet LeKauf believed that Vader loved him— on the basis of gifts, not because of any emotions his father may have revealed. So his friends had been correct. Gifts had been the only way his father had been able to express love. Until now.

Because after the time together on Vjun, had they reached the level that LeKauf described with his grandchild? Luke wanted to think so. Yes, they still argued and hurt each other, but love overcame the dark feelings… for both of them.

“How long have you known my father?”

“Since before his injuries.” Brown eyes met his gaze directly. “No, I did not know him when he was Anakin Skywalker, in case you’re wondering.”

“Oh.” He was a little murky on the exact timeline, but he’d thought that the injuries were the reason his father became Vader. “But you weren’t surprised when he said it.”

“No. I suspected, but never confirmed it.”

“But when he said I was Luke Skywalker, you still didn’t make the connection that I was his son.”

The officer coughed. “Well… as I said, at that moment I thought… perhaps he had given you his former name and that you were….”

“You mean—” He stopped, his skin prickled, his nerves suddenly going on alert. What was— He opened his senses again and danger warnings flooded in. He had just enough time to leap over the table onto LeKauf and shove the older man against the wall, protecting him with his own body. He flung out a thought to the med room to push TwoOneBee away, then there was a tremendous roar, fiery smoke that rose from below, a shudder that wracked the room, and the ceiling cracked, pieces falling onto them.

He had a second of complete clarity before the floor gave way beneath them and he heard a desperate cry…

_LUKE!_

# # #

_He was struggling through mud… no, sand, wet and heavy like a rainstorm had passed through. The sand was flooding up to his knees and he was sinking fast, flailing—then Uncle Owen said ((Don’t struggle— spread your arms and be still, it will keep you above-sand for awhile)) but then what? There was no one to pull him free, he could see nothing but sand, no sky, no—_

_((Luke!))_

_—he was drowning—_

_—he was drowned—_

_((Dad!)) He turned, pushing aside the soggy mud-sand that rose around his chest and spine, trying to swim, why had he never learned how to swim? He could swim in sand as easily as in water, why hadn’t he learned? ((Spread your arms!)) and he did, but the sand was up to his armpits, his chin, then it was in his mouth and he was choking on it, his head sinking and sand filled his throat and he was smothering, he felt no more, saw nothing, there_ _was_ _nothing—_

_Except… trees? Trees in the sand? Trees with long branches that waved at him, boughs that opened and beckoned him to climb up so he could look for—_

_Wait— were those shapes really trees? As he got closer, they almost looked like… people. Not branches, arms! But if they were people, who were they? He could pretend the tall one was Biggs, though he couldn’t see clearly. And the shorter ones— What did they want? Were they gesturing to him? He needed to find out who they were and he had to get closer to—_

_((No! You will_ _not_ _die!))_

 _—he was choking on a foul smell, steaming hot, sharp black shards cutting his feet— where were his boots, what happened to his boots— this wasn’t sand, this was cinders, and pieces of debris flew through the air— No, not debris,_ _legs_ _! His dad, his dad’s legs! He had to catch them and put them back on his dad—_

_Luke reached for a metal hand, it blistered his fingers and he almost let go but ((Luke! Hold on!)) so he did, and he tried ((there is no try)) to pull his father up, away from the scorching river of molten red and orange, colors of the lightsaber, it was Vader’s lightsaber scalding him but he didn’t let go but they were sliding down and he tried ((do or do not)) to pull harder and—_

_—twin manacles wrapped around his feet, tugging ((Let go of him!)) but he wouldn’t let go and tightened his grip, dragging his father with him. Then they were away from the blaze, he was panting, swallowing dry, gray air, his energy utterly drained, but still he held onto his father’s metal hand. He turned his head to see who was there. A man, clothing charred and tattered, who bent and picked up a lightsaber, then turned to look at him._

_((Who are you?))_

_He should know this man, there was something familiar— ((Luke)) he replied—_

_—and heard a gentle echo in the distance, soft with tears, tender and sad: ((Luke….)) and… ((Leia))...._

_The stranger shot him a disbelieving look and vanished into the thick fog like night evaporated in the morning suns. He almost followed, but… he needed to answer the other voice, the one that cried—_

_((Luke! Here!))_

_((It’s okay— I saved you!)) he told his father— ((But now I have to go, I have to find—))_

_((Sweetheart! Please!))_

_((Hah! I_ _knew_ _you said that to_ _me_ _, not Yahoo!)) He closed his eyes, content, and he needed to sleep, just a quick nap before he went—_

_((Luke! NOW! Grab hold!))_

_It was an order so he obeyed, wrapping his arms around his father’s neck and—_

—took a long gasp, choking and spitting out sand— no, not sand, something else, something dry and dusty that coated him. He was lifted, his head cradled against— Oh, it was his father’s suit, and he was getting it dirty, he was all gray and he was getting ashes on the perfect cloak! He struggled to get free, to keep everything perfect—

“Son,” Darth Vader said in a hoarse voice that shook. “Be still. You’re all right. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

_Okay. But what—?_

“An explosion. You were in my quarters and—”

“Are people dead?” There was someone else! He remembered holding on to—

“LeKauf. They’re getting him out now. He will be fine. As will you.”

“But were people—”

“Yes, there are casualties. However, not as many as the terrorists hoped.”

_Terrorists? Not my friends, no._

“Pirates. Smugglers. Likely Black Sun. Part of the organization that we attacked from Vjun.”

That was too much information. He peered over Vader’s shoulder, trying to see the captain being pulled out, but his eyes were itchy and blurry. “I c’n walk!” Luke declared. “Put me down!”

“Not on your life,” his father countered fiercely. “The doctor will check your injuries and then you’re going straight into bacta.”

“Noooo!” Not the _tank!_ He didn’t want to swim anymore! “I should be hurt when I go back to the Base. So they don’t get mad at me for being late.”

“Stop fretting.”

“Are you mad? Do I still have the platinum un… unlined credit? I need to buy presents.”

“Doctor, check to see if he’s concussed, he’s not making sense.”

 _I am too!_ He should have glared. Instead his face burrowed into his father’s shoulder and the arms held him too tightly to move. _Don’t put me down._

_I have no intention of doing so— except onto a medical cot._

_‘Kay._ He yawned. _Maybe sleep for awhile._ “Hey… I require a hug.”

 _What do you think I’m doing now?_ His dad’s grip tightened. _I’m sorry, Son. This was my fault._

_You blew me up?_

_I told you to dampen your awareness. If you hadn’t, you would’ve—_

_I didn’t obey._ He was lowered onto something soft, and his hand trailed down his father’s arm until it found the fingers and curved around them. _I felt it in time to get down._

The grip tightened almost painfully. _I won’t lose you._

 _You won’t,_ he agreed. But wondered. “Did I die?”

“Just for a moment,” someone declared with a note of delight. “But you’re back. And, oh, my, your prosthesis held up well considering the circumstances! What a fine piece of work!”

Ugh, he recognized that voice. The damned doctor from the Devastator.

 _Dad? Did I really die? I saw things like I was alive. I think I saw Obi-Wan… and I don’t know.... I heard someone else. Maybe it was… the afterlife?_ “Is there an afterlife? Was I there? Was I dead?”

His father sighed. “My mother once told me something about death and the afterlife. I will share it with you.”

“Great,” he mumbled, hoping it wasn’t a long story.

“A young friend died suddenly and I asked if there was an afterlife when I would see him again, and she said: ‘We choose our beliefs, Ani. I don’t see where it makes a difference whether it’s true or not. As long as I believe it, it is true. And if it is not true, I shall never know. So it shall always be true for me.’”

“Most profound, my lord,” the doctor said. “Now, boy, hold still.”

Luke felt the pressure of a hypospray against his arm. “I don’t want—”

“You’re my patient and you’re going to sleep now. Don’t fuss.”

 _Fret,_ he tried to correct the physician.

 _Don’t fret._ “I’ll be here when you wake up. In this life, not another. Not yet,” his father added, and Luke smiled as everything vanished.

# # #

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thoughts about an afterlife are from my friend, Z.P. Florian. I don’t know if those were her original words or if it was a quote that brought her comfort. Sadly, she’s no longer here for me to ask. Rest in peace, Z.P.
> 
> P.S. [The Truth: Interludes, Chapter 9, follows this, with Piett reflecting on the rescue attempt.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578542/chapters/64105486)


	9. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader and Luke face the aftermath of the sabotage. Vader is difficult, Luke is irritated, they’re both agitated— in other words, their normal relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Truth: Interludes, Chapter 9, Piett’s Not-So-Great Day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578542/chapters/64105486) occurs just before this, with Piett reflecting on the attempted rescue of Luke and the consequences. Read that first!

He shifted a little. The big chair was soft and comfortable, but he was still sore in a few areas, especially his back and limbs. And maybe the top of his head. And his feet. And his throat still hurt. He hoped he was keeping his discomfort concealed from his dad because he didn’t want another session in the bacta tank— even though he knew Vader meant his threat to dunk him again. It was bad enough _being_ in the gooey, icky stuff and feeling it smoosh all over his body, but it _smelled_ and the smell lingered. He was sure all the officers in the room could smell him. He could smell his own _hair!_ How did his dad stand it? It must smell terrible when Vader got out of the liquid and directly into his suit. Although Luke had never sniffed it on his father—

“Perhaps you should go rest.”

Luke started. “What? No, I’m fine. I’m not sleeping, I was thinking!”

“Nevertheless—” Darth Vader began.

“And I have to wait for my pie.”

A few chairs away Admiral Piett said, “It can be sent to your room, Luke.”

General Veers steepled his fingers and tapped them together. Luke sent him a dark look.

“I’m fine.”

“I will update you on our discussion. You don’t need to stay—”

“Are _you_ staying here?” Luke didn’t mean to snap, but _really._

“Yes.” His father— no, his father’s impenetrable _helmet_ looked at him, but Vader’s thoughts were guarded.

“Then so am I.” He folded his arms, hiding a wince when his elbow met the chair arm.

There was an awkward silence. Piett stared at his hands. Veers’s gaze tilted toward the ceiling. Jir watched Veers. LeKauf and Jovay both tried unsuccessfully to hide smiles. The tension was broken when the door slid open.

Captain Gallia approached, a visibly scorched datapad in his hand. “The information seems to be intact, my lord.”

“Seems to be or _is?”_ Luke asked, saving his dad the trouble.

“It is encrypted,” Gallia addressed Vader calmly, “so I cannot, of course, verify the completeness of the contents.”

_You could if you wanted to, Captain Crack Code-Breaker._

“Captain LeKauf.” Vader waved the datapad away, and Gallia handed it to the other officer. “Transfer the contents to a new pad and continue your assignment.”

 _Geez, maybe LeKauf needs to rest,_ Luke Sent, and his thought hit a solid wall. _Dad?_

No response. Damnit. He pressed his lips together tightly.

“I intend to respond thoroughly and aggressively to Xizor’s attack—”

_Once you’ve determined it was him, right?_

“—but that action will be deferred until we have completed our plan of conquest.”

Luke sighed loudly. Before he could offer a suggestion, an ensign entered with a covered dish of the wonderful pie and green creamy topping. “Thank you!” He accepted the plate, eager for the distraction. “Anyone else want a bite? No? Okay then.”

“Check it for poison before you eat,” the Sith Lord said just as Luke got the spoon up to his mouth.

“That’s not funny!”

“It’s not meant to be amusing.” Vader’s words were clipped.

“I’ll gladly try a bite, my lord,” Jovay answered, his tone sounding sincere. “Just to be certain it’s safe.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but Vader nodded. Jovay took a spoon from the caf tray and cut off a way-too-big chunk and ate it. “It’s all right so far. Maybe I should try another bite to be sure.”

Piett chuckled and Veers glared at him.

“Luke, take the pie and go to your room.” His dad’s hands interlocked on the desktop.

Oh. Well…. Maybe Luke _was_ treating a deadly serious situation too lightly. Subdued, he said, “Yes, sir,” and rose, feeling like a child banished from an adult discussion.

Which, he supposed, was how the officers saw him.

Which, he supposed, was how the Alliance saw him. But damn, it was hard to be a teen and the son of a Sith at the same time!

Still, maybe he should try harder.

# # #

After the wonderfully disgusting sweetness of the pie, he went to his father’s room (trying to ignore the cordoned off mess of the office and the sounds of drilling and soldering occasionally accompanied by colorful language) and sprawled on the sofa. He’d meant to meditate and practice patience, but it was warm and he was full and the sofa was as soft as the chair and his eyelids were heavy....

He became embroiled in a strange, unhappy dream involving his father stomping around and fires and floods and planet-quakes—

Luke opened his eyes. Not a quake. Worse. His dad was shaking his shoulder. “Wake up!”

“I’m awake,” he grumbled, sitting up. “Why’re you so mad? Because I asked for pie? I’m sorry! Maybe that wasn’t the right time—”

Vader took off his helmet and tossed it on the table where it rattled for several seconds before stilling. “Remove my mask.” He grabbed Luke’s collar and yanked him to his feet.

“Okay, okay!” Flustered, he pulled himself free. “I’ll get TwoOneBee—”

“No! _You_ do it. Now.”

Swallowing, he fit his fingers around the edges and tried to lift it gently.

“Remove it!”

His chest felt suddenly tight, but he pulled hard and felt his father wince as the needles popped free with a sucking sound. Tiny red beads glinted prominently across the top of his forehead. “I’m sorry!”

Vader threw the mask aside. “Did you feel my pain?”

“Yes!” His dad never treated his mask that carelessly! Luke swallowed.

“Good!” the Sith snarled. The cape was removed in a swirl of ebony, then the pauldrons, belt, and chest controls. “Now you know how I felt!”

Luke wondered if he was supposed to leave. He sort of wanted to. “Are you— Should I—”

“You!” One fist raised and shook, then the forefinger poked in front of his face. “You— you almost broke your promise to me!”

 _What?_ What promise? Luke searched his memory desperately. Had he lost his honor again? Had he— “What promise?”

“You promised _not to die!”_ His dad’s voice thundered even without the vocoder. “And you nearly _did!”_

“But I _didn’t!”_ he protested, his hands hovering in the air in front of his father’s clenched fists, uncertain if they were going to rain anger down on him. “I… didn’t….”

His dread faltered as his father’s face changed. The expression was… terrified, grief-stricken… so incredibly sad that Luke felt his own eyes fill with tears. “I didn’t die, Dad. I didn’t.”

“You tried! You used the Force—”

Biting his lip, he stayed silent, trying to figure out what his dad was saying.

“Instead of using the Force to help free yourself, you used it to _explore!”_ The last word was spit out like an accusation.

“I—”

“Just like when you did that absurd ‘healing’ on someone’s finger! You fell into the Void then— twelve hells only knows where you were this time!” Vader paced away, then whirled back to crowd in front of him. “I needed your help! I couldn’t free you even with the Force— you were tangled in wires and— you were off somewhere _exploring!_ You were looking beyond death! Have you no _sense?_ What is in your mind? Is it _empty?”_

Stung, Luke shouted: “I didn’t know what I was doing, all right?! I didn’t know, I’d never been there or done that— How was I supposed to _know_ what to do?”

“You’re supposed to use your brain! You’re supposed to _focus!_ Why do I have to keep telling you the same thing over and over? _FOCUS!_ Damnit, Luke— _FOCUS!”_

He tried to back up, but his legs shook and there was a wall behind him now. “I’m sorry….”

Vader looked to one side, his throat working as he swallowed. He took a few deep breaths, syncing back into a normal rhythm, fighting for control. Without warning, he grabbed Luke, folding him against his chest in a tight embrace, cradling his head like an infant’s skull.

When he spoke, his voice was a ragged whisper. “You almost died. You _almost died._ You almost left me. I almost lost you.”

His father’s mind, that had been so closed off, burst open, and layers of agony and fear spilled out. Layers and layers… Luke tried to distract himself by thinking it was almost like a cake, a really delicious—

But all the anxiety and confusion he’d been repressing for the last day finally exploded. He clutched his father’s shoulders, sobbing, and Vader rocked him back and forth like he was soothing a baby.

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t— Did I—? The doctor said I—?” He choked on the question. He didn’t want to die yet. He had so much to do.

Vader swore vividly in Huttese. “If he wasn’t such an excellent physician— Almost, Luke. Almost. You were so close. You were… drowning in that….”

“F-fire s-suppressant,” he remembered hearing someone say. “And I s-saw people…. _Did_ I see people? I don’t know who they were.”

“I don’t know either. But you—” The Sith’s big body shuddered. “I used the Force to hold your head above— I had to keep you from drowning. But you were so trapped so tightly—”

“I don’t remember….”

“Why are you so damned small?! You shouldn’t have been able to fit in that duct! You should’ve fallen free like LeKauf!”

“I don’t know why I’m small! _You_ made me, you tell _me!_ My mother—”

Predictably, Vader didn’t respond. “And I called you. I kept calling you. Over and over.”

“Yes! I heard you!” He lifted his face, rubbing his tears onto his dad’s leather sleeve. “People reached for me, they wanted me to come, but I heard you. I came back because you called me. I wouldn’t leave you on purpose, Dad.”

Vader squeezed him once more— nearly crushing the breath out of him— then held him back at arm’s length, his gaze intense and assessing. “I am _never_ letting you out of my sight again.”

Luke sniffled. “Yeah, you are. You have to.”

“I know... Biscuit.”

“What?”

“Not ‘Biscuit’? Well, that’s all right, I think I prefer ‘Bug’.”

His laugh was shaky. Okay, if his dad was switching moods, Luke would go along with it. “Fine, Pop… Poppy. Popster? No? Magic Man?”

Vader shook his head.

“It has to be something short because ‘Lord High Maintenance’ is just too long.” He smiled weakly and tasted tears on his lips.

“Just stick with ‘Dad’ for now. I don’t want to overtax your poor brain too much.” His father stroked wet hair off his cheeks. “My little Jedi,” he said fondly.

 _“WHAT?”_ Horrified and confused, yet weirdly flattered, Luke gawked at his father. “What the— Dad! I am _not_ a Jedi!” He looked around the room for an escape. “Am I…?”

Vader gave a feral smile. “You may be, whether you use the name or not. It would be easier to use some label, otherwise you’ll always be giving rambling explanations that will make you appear ineffective. You have my permission, if you need it, to call yourself a Jedi.”

“Whoa.” He frowned. “I don’t _like_ the Jedi! I totally do _not_ understand you! You sound as if…. Dad, would you be _proud_ if I was a Jedi?”

“Son, I’m proud of _you,_ no matter what you decide.”

“But everybody knows the Jedi are all dead! YOU KILLED THEM!” He tried not to shriek, but was not entirely successful.

“You’re welcome,” his father said, ignoring Luke’s consternation. “The Jedi are gone, but there are Force Sensitives all over the galaxy. You can remake the Jedi Order into your image. Perhaps I would assist.”

This sounded a lot like his dad’s ambitions for ruling the galaxy... except as a Jedi instead of a Sith. Luke sighed. “Yeah, I suppose you would.”

Still, maybe his dad could be persuaded to join him in reigniting (so to speak) the Jedi (under another name) _instead_ of ruling the galaxy. But it would be so much more fun to join the Galactic Racing Circuit.

“And Palpatine might like the idea of corrupting another Jedi.”

Oh. Now it made sense. Everything always seemed to come back to Palpatine.

The truth of that suddenly hit him. Conquering Palpatine was his dad’s goal— and had been for how long? Since he became a Sith? Since before Luke was born? So what would happen if— no, _when_ they defeated the Emperor? Would his father lose his reason for existing? It didn’t seem like Vader wanted to deal with the minutiae of ruling, he just wanted to destroy Darth Sidious. He wanted to _win._

Luke treasured the idea of joining the racing circuit, but what was the reality? Vader wasn’t the most adaptable person. What if he didn’t like being out of the suit? What if it was as much a haven as a prison? And he was used to fighting, he loved conflict and killing. _I am a warrior. Killing is what I do. I don’t want to stop,_ he’d said.

And what if his son became his new obsession? _I_ _paid for you, child. The blood of many beings paid for you._

“Are we done crying now?”

He was disconcerted for a moment, then decided Vader really did mean both of them, not just Luke. “I am if you are.” He tried to keep the exhaustion out of his voice. He loved his dad so much, but sometimes Vader wore him out.

“I am. As long as you promise to keep your earlier promise to not die.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And why are you suddenly calling me ‘sir’?”

Luke shrugged. “I thought your officers would be impressed by… you know… the respect you command from your wayward son.”

“I see. Thank you for promoting my best interests. Speaking of which,” his dad added with a slight tilt of his head and a shrug, “it’s bacta time.”

“Noooo! You’re so _mean!_ I’m traumatized, you can’t bacta me now! Can’t I just have bacta-strips?”

“All over? On every scratch and cut and bruise?” His father scoffed at the image. “You would need the entire supply of strips on board.”

“But it _smells!”_

“Tell TwoOneBee to hose you off more thoroughly.” The Sith sighed. “To use an expression you will understand: _You’re being overly dramatic.”_

Okay, that sounded familiar. He surrendered with a sigh, but not without a scowl for his dad— then he stopped and hugged Vader once before heading into the dreaded treatment room. He had a lot of thinking to do, but not here. It could wait until he was back with the Alliance and away from his father’s loving presence that was sometimes, well... smothering.

# # #

“I’m leaving tomorrow, aren’t I?”

Vader pushed away the remains of his dinner. It was the dinner that clued Luke into his upcoming departure. His dad had only eaten with him a few times, and even then he ate very little, saying he preferred the nutrients provided within his suit.

“Yes. It’s not safe for you to be here any longer.”

Luke nudged his slice of pie in his dad’s direction. It was delicious, but how much pie could a guy eat in one day? “Have you ever tried this?”

“No.” The Dark Lord didn’t look enthused, but obligingly cut off a small piece.

“Get some of the green stuff too.”

“It’s called ‘chanilla’. It’s a plant-based sweetener.”

“Oh, so it’s healthy!” Pleased, he watched his dad take a tentative taste. Then another. “Can I take a few pies and a tub of chanilla back to the Base with me? Then I don’t have to shop for presents and use up my entire platinum unlimited line of credit.”

“That seems so reasonable, I can hardly believe it’s you speaking. Tell LeKauf.” Vader took a third tiny scoop of chanilla, then turned the spoon around in his fingers a few times before putting it down. “Do you remember what you said to me once?”

“Uh… that’s a big ask, Dad. Can you give me a clue?”

Vader turned sad blue eyes toward him. “You said it was good I didn’t love you, because I kill everyone I love.”

Ouch. Luke cringed. “That was a long time ago, Dad. Everything’s different between us now.”

“But it’s true. You’re the first thing in my life I haven’t destroyed.”

“I’m not a ‘thing’, Dad, and that’s not true. You’re not responsible for what happened to your mom and—”

“I am. I saw her in my dreams being tortured and didn’t act soon enough.”

“You weren’t allowed to, there’s a difference,” he reminded, deciding to skip the subject of Padme and the entire Jedi Order. “You had friends when you were a kid. And you have friends on this ship— that’s a kind of love. I can see that Captain LeKauf likes you. And Piett. Possibly Veers, but who can tell, he’s so frowny. And Jovay. There are lots of people in your life who care about you and respect you.”

“That is not the same and you know it.”

“It kinda is. You care about those people and probably others.”

“That’s not love,” Vader said testily. “You are the only person I love, and you’re leaving me.”

A groan left him before he could stop it. “Dad… it’s the same for me. And I’m not _leaving_ you, we’re executing our plot. Don’t be such a… Oh, I know!” He gasped, then grinned. “ _Diva!_ How’s that for your nickname? Lord Diva!”

Vader spooned off the remaining chanilla and flicked it toward Luke’s face before he knew what was happening. It landed on his nose. Fortunately it dripped down so he could catch it on his tongue and lap it up. “Food fight!”

“No. The fight is over, I won, you have no food.”

Luke looked down. Well… other than the pie, there was nothing left in front of him, and he wasn’t willing to sacrifice that pie. “I hope your hidden cameras took snaps of that so I can take the memory back with me.”

“Maybe.” A genuine smile creased his dad’s face before he became serious again. “I promise I won’t kill you, Luke.”

“Well… there’s that. Good.” He supposed not many sons had to thank their fathers for not murdering them, but he strived to remain polite. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Umm… does that promise hold if I become a Jedi?”

“We’ll talk about that if and when it happens.”

“Okay.” He changed the subject to something safer. “What stunning outfit do you think I should wear to impress the Alliance, Darth Diva?”

# # #


	10. Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke says good-bye to his father for now. 😥

He couldn’t sleep and felt his dad was awake, too, so Luke wrapped himself in his bathrobe and left his room, carefully skirting the construction area. He could hear work a few decks below, and Vader’s office now had an unfinished, unpolished (horrors!) floor.

His father was on the sofa, helmet and mask removed, but wearing all his armor. A small glass of umber liquid was in his hand and there was a bottle on the table that looked familiar. Luke plunked himself down and sat cross-legged.

“Don’t you have a dress here? You should take off that armor.”

“A _dress_ is hardly appropriate aboard ship.”

“What about the glorious new robe? It’s so _fabulous!_ ”

“It’s so _blue,”_ his father said, as if that explained everything.

“So?” Something needed to be done about that attitude. “Are you _drinking?”_ Why should that shock him? His dad was an adult. But still, he was a father and supposed to set a good example.

“I confiscated Piett’s brandy. No, you can’t have any.”

As a matter of form, Luke protested, even though he didn’t want it. “Why not? It’s not like I haven’t had drinks before.”

“Exactly why you cannot have any again. The same with spice.”

“It wasn’t all bad! Did you ever stop to think that if I hadn’t been using, I wouldn’t have been in Mos Eisley and I wouldn’t have gotten a blood test and you never would have known about me. Imagine that!”

“I can’t.” Vader put the brandy aside and picked up something from the table. “Take off your wristband.”

“You mean my wonderful silver bracelet?” he teased but obeyed.

His dad held out a different band, still silver but slightly wider. “This is new technology, no one else has it. It will offer a wider range both in distance and sensitivity. And,” Vader added, “it has the inscription you requested.”

Luke took the bracelet and tilted it toward the light. “ _To Luke, Love Dad._ You remembered!”

“I remember nearly everything you say, which is not necessarily to my advantage. Same Force password on this one.”

“Okay.” He held out both the bracelet and his wrist and grinned. “This is harder to put on than the gloves.”

Vader gave him a chastising parental look (which Luke was getting used to and actually enjoyed) before clasping it around his wrist. It was heavier than the thin one, but just as smooth and comfortable. Instead of being plain, it had a stylized design around the band. “It’s pretty.”

“It’s more than pretty. The etching is a repetitive abstract rendering of ‘501’, which identifies you as a member of my 501st.”

Luke bit his bottom lip. “I don’t think the Alliance will approve.”

“Unless you tell them, they won’t know.”

“They might! Besides, I’m not a member of the 501st!”

“You are now.” Vader handed him a chip. “This is your identification, Commander Skywalker. It also has a password that will be known only to you, me, and Captain LeKauf.”

“LeKauf? Dad!” He gave his father an incredulous look. “And… _commander?”_

“He is my aide and I trust him.” Vader was unruffled by his surprise. “And you need a title since you dislike ‘mister’.”

“But not… Dad, soldiers train hard and work hard for years to become commanders. It’s not fair that I—”

“You have worked every bit as hard and have earned the privilege of becoming a member of my 501st. Your martial skills are superb. At any rate—” Vader held up his hand. “Your name will appear in no Imperial record. This is an honorary title— for the time being. So accept it and stop being stubborn.”

Stubborn? Look who was talking! “You’re very... organized.” Luke tilted his head.

“It’s one of my many skills.” Vader dismissed his blossoming suspicions. “Also, take this with you.” He handed Luke what looked like a flattened code cylinder. “It will fit in the interior pocket of your boot. It’s a code splitter that will give you unlimited access to the Underground Database. You can research whatever you wish, and I ask that you look into cloning organs and other forms of repair for me.”

“Of course.” He rolled the cylinder in his hand. Was this _spy_ equipment? “I didn’t know there was an Underground Database. Cool. I’ll bet there’s all sorts of good stuff in it!”

“Yes, well…. Absolutely no pornography, Luke.”

“Aaaack! That’s so _gross! Dad!”_ He blinked rapidly. _“Eww,_ don’t say that again, ever ever ever! I even made the guys at the base turn off the Hutt porn channel!”

“The _what?”_ The Sith huffed. “Those Rebels are a bad influence. As soon as we have succeeded and don’t need them anymore, you’re leaving!”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Now. Pay attention.”

“I _am_ paying attention! I _always_ pay attention! What do you think I’ve been doing for the last ten minutes?!”

“Drama,” his father reminded. “You are taking along a new package of tapes to study.” One hand was raised again. “Don’t even think of protesting. It’s a long trip and studying will occupy your time.”

“Long? What d’you mean, _long?_ It wasn’t long to get here!” 

“We’ll still be in dry dock tomorrow, so your journey from Kuat to Yavin will take some days.”

 _“DAYS???”_ Luke was almost rendered speechless. “I don’t wanna go!”

“Nevertheless, you will have plenty of study time, so make the most of it. Do not eat all the pies.”

_Oh, sure, you HAD to mention the pie! Now I—_

“You are not having any more pie tonight. When you leave tomorrow, wear your armor. You may change into something more comfortable during your trip, but I suggest you wear the armor when you arrive at that… base… to establish a new first impression.”

Luke emitted what he figured was a tragic sigh and swooned over the sofa arm.

“Keep your day job,” his father said drily. “Do they have a qualified trauma specialist at that base? If not, I will dispatch one. You will have a lung scan here tomorrow morning, and I want you to have a lung scan within a day after you arrive at that base and weekly for the next month, just to be sure there are no particles attached in your lungs. If you cough, see the physician immediately.”

Luke coughed.

His dad ignored him. “You will be accompanied by three long-range fighter escorts that—”

“Escorts? Correct me if I’m wrong,” he interrupted, “but aren’t I supposed to be inconspicuous?”

“They will leave after you exit from your last hyperspace jump when they deem it to be safe.”

“Yeah, but you promised to be within an _hour_ of me! And you’re not!”

“Only for a short while. As soon as the ship can depart, I will move closer. Stop worrying.”

 _“Me?_ Dad, you’re the one who’s fussing. Or fretting, I’m not sure which.” He frowned.

“You are precious to me,” Vader said without hesitation, making Luke feel ungrateful but delighted. “I will not put you in harm’s way unnecessarily.”

He waited, sensing there was something more about to be added, but his dad’s words veered elsewhere.

“When you are at your base, remember to keep your clothes on.”

Luke blinked. “Okay… so, no more running around naked then?”

His witticism was ignored again, making him wonder if he was losing his witticism-ability. Or whatever.

“Some scars are still in the healing process. If they were seen, how would you explain them?”

“It’s going to be hard to keep track of more lies,” he observed quietly. “Can’t I say what happened on Executor?”

“Only if they mention it first. Which they may, given that an attack is a difficult secret to keep. And do you really want to tell them you were on this ship?”

“I guess not. Maybe. I don’t know. Yes…?”

“Whatever,” Vader said, and Luke scowled. “Insofar as our plot is concerned, you must be discreet about how much you tell them, remembering that Palpatine may have a spy.”

“But my bracelet will—”

“Only if the spy is in your vicinity. Remember to check the command office for devices.”

“Okay.” Luke pursed his lips. “So what should I tell them?”

“Tell them to be wary of an attack, not to be complacent just because of the protection your presence affords. That if communications go down, assume it’s galaxy-wide— you, of course, will know— and don’t panic, use the opportunity to attack Imperial vessels not under my control. Again, you must direct them.” 

Luke uncrossed his legs and shifted, glancing around the room, hoping for a distraction.

“Gently initiate them into the possibility that I may wish to ally with them and that I have many supporters. Let them know that you are leading the overthrow of the Emperor with me. And tell this to the entire Alliance Council, not just Yavin Command.”

“Well, that should be a snap. Anything else you want me to do?”

“Not yet.”

Luke wrinkled his nose. “How soon is all this going to happen?” Really, he could use _years_ to just psych himself up.

“We’ll see.” Vader poured himself another brandy and stared at the hand that held it, rubbing the knuckles and examining fingernails like he was still fascinated by his appearance. “You are beautiful like your mother,” he said abruptly. “You have her smile. Well, my smile too, I suppose. We smiled a lot when we were together.”

Luke leaned his cheek against the back of the sofa. “She’s why I’m short. So do I look like her— except for the eyes? I have your eyes.”

“No, I still have my eyes, Luke. You have merely inherited the same color.”

He rolled his _own eyes_ and smiled at his father’s joke, but he was still thinking about how to _gently_ inform the Alliance that Darth Vader might join them. Or… actually, he supposed it was the other way around.

“Her eyes were brown. You know that… don’t you?”

“Uh...yes.” He was pretty sure he remembered that from some conversation. Maybe. Leia’s eyes were brown, too.

“I was a handsome devil,” his dad mused, staring at the ceiling.

Luke wondered just how much brandy Vader had consumed before he’d arrived. “You still are, Dad,” he declared gallantly. “Even more since we ‘skinned’ you.”

Oh, poor choice of words! But his father ignored his gaffe. Mostly. ”Thank you.”

“Are you done?” Luke demanded. “Because I have orders for you too.”

“Have at it.” Vader grinned, pleasing Luke mightily.

“Okay. First of all, you need to maintain the synth skin. Has TwoOneBee checked you all over since you apparently tore through the debris to get me out?”

“Not ye—”

“Well, do it tomorrow! And check it on a regular basis. When you need to have any procedures done, tell me and I’ll come.”

“That won’t be—”

“Yes, it _is_ necessary,” he said firmly. “And if you _don’t_ tell me, I’ll assume you haven’t had work done and I’ll come anyway and make you do it.”

“Just wait until you have children,” Vader muttered.

“Don’t _even!”_ Luke threatened, hoping to avoid another mention of marriage and Leia. “Also, I want you to practice your Light meditation every day to promote healing. In fact, we’ll do that tonight.”

“You need sleep.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m in hyperspace since the trip is so damned long!”

“Language,” Vader said, like ‘damned’ was a curse! “And you will _not_ sleep while in hyperspace, that’s dangerous!”

“Well, I’m not going to stay awake for _days!”_

“That’s it, I’m sending a copilot with you.”

“No, you can’t.” Luke sighed. “I’ll set alarms, Dad. Plus there’ll be my escorts. It’ll be fine. You know it will.” There was a silence. “I forgot what other orders I had for you,” he admitted.

“Thank the stars.”

“So instead, we’ll meditate now. No arguments. And Dad,” he added mischievously, _“focus.”_

“I want to lie down,” Vader announced abruptly and two pillows floated over from the bed.

“Fine.” Luke snatched the brandy out of the way and sniffed the aroma appreciatively before he sent it out of the room.

The pillows landed on his lap, and without even a ‘may I?’ Vader stretched out, head on the pillows, ankles extending over the sofa arm.

“Comfortable?” Luke asked with just the slightest sarcasm. Pillows or not, the shoulder pauldrons were digging hard into his thigh. Still, he wasn’t going to move his dad. These were their last hours together for who knew how long. Plus, this was a weird mood for a Sith Lord to be in. Not that he’d known more than this one Sith Lord and _this_ one’s moods weren't exactly predictable.

“I’m fine.”

“Fine.” Luke banished their entire conversation from his mind, laying his hand on his dad’s forehead, allowing the Force to wash over and join them.

# # #

When he thought about it the next day, he was fairly certain that they’d managed some healing meditation before they both fell asleep.

He woke on the sofa, finding his legs propped up and the soft blanket from his room covering him. His dad was nowhere in sight— not surprising, given that the com said it was almost noon. “Krit!”

There was a covered meal in his quarters and he scarfed it down _(Dad, no pie?)_ , then showered and wriggled into the bodyglove and began to strap on his armor. It took forever to wrap the leather strap. It seemed useless but his father said it was good for hiding things. Probably not pie.

A chime sounded at his door that led to Vader’s office. “Dad? Come in!” Really, his father didn’t need to—

Captain LeKauf appeared with a package in his hands that looked about the right size for a whole lot of educational tapes.

“The pies and chanilla are in the cooler of your ship.”

“Yahoo,” Luke answered absently as he folded his new black cape. He didn’t have much to pack. The Vjun clothes were on Vjun (except for the new stuff he’d left in Yahoo), the Executor clothes were on the Executor, the Devastator clothes were on Yavin, and the Alliance clothes were on Yavin (except for what he’d brought along and left in Yahoo). All he had was the cape, underwear (goes _under_ the bodyglove) and his Sithly uniform. Suddenly he had way too many clothes. How had that happened and how would he ever keep track of them all?

Captain LeKauf hadn’t responded, and Luke turned his head, feeling something was off, then realizing he'd sounded rude. “Oh!” he blushed. “I didn’t mean— I mean, _thank you!_ Yahoo is the name of my ship!”

“Ah. I see.” The older man’s gaze lightened.

“And thank you for all the clothes you ordered! I love them!”

“I just did the ordering. Lord Vader chose them.” The captain tilted his head.

Instinctively he liked LeKauf, maybe because he knew LeKauf liked him. “I’m glad you’re my dad’s friend.”

The captain’s lips had twitched slightly when Luke said ‘dad’, but he smiled. “I’m glad too. And I’m happy he found you.”

“You and me both! I was a mess!” He closed the small carryall. “I guess he was too, but we’re getting better. Hey, could you do me a favor?”

“Does it involve pie?”

Luke chuckled. “Now that you mention it…. No, actually, he got a gorgeous blue robe. Have you seen it?”

“Not yet, but the invoice passed over my desk.”

Huh. “Okay…. Anyway, it’s amazing and he looks fabulous in it! I mean… well, I guess he could only wear it in his quarters because I don’t think it would look fabulous with his mask and helmet.” He pursed his lips, picturing it. “No, only in concentrated oxygen areas. But he won’t wear it because it's blue, which is just silly. _But..._ I had a brilliant idea!”

“Lord Vader said you are prone to such ideas.”

He had to giggle. “Yeah! So I was thinking… could you order another one without telling him and I’ll leave a note? It’ll be like my thank-you gift to him, even though he has to pay for it.”

The captain raised an eyebrow.

“He only wants to wear black on the ship, so if you could order it in black— but I think the trim should be in gunmetal gray. How fabulous would that be?! What do you think?”

“I think I could have the robe replicated in those colors today. It wouldn’t be the same quality fabrics as the bespoke one he purchased, but it would suffice until a tailored version could be ordered if he agrees.”

“Great! Thank you! You’re a prince!” Which reminded him— “I have to say goodbye to TwoOneBee!”

“Before you dash off—” LeKauf held up a restraining hand but didn’t touch him. “Here are the educational tapes. Also—”

“Thanks,” Luke said glumly as he took the package. “I feel like I’ve learned everything in the universe. What’s left?”

“Also,” the officer continued, holding out a single tape, “your father recorded a message for you this morning. He instructed me to tell you that you shouldn’t watch it until you’re in hyperspace.”

“Oh, yeah?” Luke stuck his tongue in his cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” LeKauf smiled briefly before turning serious. “How do you feel about leaving your father? Especially since you don’t know when you’ll see him again.”

Luke stared. _What?_ Sure, he was leaving, but—

He was _leaving_.

Leaving. 

Going away.

In less than an hour, he’d be gone and his dad would still be on this ship. His dad wouldn’t be with him tomorrow or the next day or next week or… maybe not even next month.

Maybe _never._

“I’m sorry. Luke? Are you all right?”

Remotely, he heard LeKauf and sort of saw him, but his eyes were blurry. Luke shook his head to clear his vision. “I have to finish packing,” he said, turning away.

“Of course.” The captain took a few steps. “I’m sure we’ll meet again soon,” he added reassuringly before the door swished open and closed again.

Luke looked at the tape he held in his hands. He sat down and stuck the attached buds in his ears.

_Luke…._

There was no picture, just his dad’s voice. But there was such a long pause that he fiddled with the buds, wondering if they were defective. His dad’s voice returned.

_Son, I feel I haven’t properly thanked you for… well, everything. You’ve given me renewed hope for a wonderful future, and you’ve made my current condition much more tolerable. You are more wonderful than I could have dreamed. I am so very proud of you and the man you are becoming._

Luke sniffled and wiped one hand across his eyes. Warriors don’t cry!

_Now to business. You may not realize that you are heir to my considerable wealth. An addendum to this message contains contact information for my attorneys. You will have to deal with them, for which I apologize._

Not for a long time! What the hell?! Dad!!

_After what happened, after… I almost lost you, I realize that I pushed you into agreeing to help with my plan. Last night… well… I pushed too hard. I don’t want to risk your life again. I have given you access to my fortune, which you may use as you see fit— within reason. Please don’t spend it all and please don’t use it to equip the Rebels. If you wish to go to school, you may do that now. It would be a better life for you. We— I can wait to take on Palpatine. Another few years won’t make… Well. Maybe we’ll be fortunate and he’ll die of unnatural causes._

There was another hesitation that made Luke clench his hands together so tightly the knuckles turned white.

_If you prefer, you may revert to using a name other than Skywalker. I believe Sidious cannot trace you if you use the Force only sparingly. Consider all this during your voyage. If you need more time to decide— well, take all the time you need. I don’t want to force you into— And… well, the point is... I love you. Be careful. And study._

_Well._ He was torn between tears and laughter. His dad was getting better (even if a bit awkward) with expressing the affectionate thoughts that Luke knew he felt.

But he wanted to put his father’s fears to rest. Luke tucked the tape into his wrap (suddenly the horrible belt had a good use!) and reached for a new tape to record a message of his own, something for his dad to hold onto when they were apart— just like he had these words from his dad.

# # #

 _Are you ready?_ Lord Vader demanded. _We’re waiting._

We? Who would be waiting for him? He waved a final bye to TwoOneBee before responding: _Almost. But I need help buckling my gloves. Could you come and…?_

He didn’t receive a reply, but a minute later his father arrived. Vader planted himself in the doorway, thumbs hooked in his belt, looking like someone who intended to terrorize everyone he came across.

“I don't understand why you can’t dress yourself,” his father with a mildness that belied his appearance. “They’re just gloves.”

“I know.” Luke held out his hands and looked up through his lashes. “I just like the way you buckle them.”

Vader snorted, but complied and fastened the gloves tightly. “Pull up your hood and let’s go.”

“Okay— No, wait!” Luke grabbed his dad’s arm. “I— Um….”

“Son—” The Sith opened his arms.

Luke threw himself into those arms. “Geez,” he mumbled through sniffles.

“What’s wrong?”

“We have on so much armor, it’s like there are no people inside.”

His dad stroked his hair. “This is one of those moments that frightens me because I understand what you mean. And worse, I agree.”

Luke tried to smile. He rubbed his head against the hand. “Okay, Dad, quit with the sentimental stuff. We have a job to do!” But he didn’t let go, and they stood there in a silent embrace until his dad gave him a final squeeze and released him. The Dark Lord’s hand rested flat against his back as they left his quarters, warm and reassuring.

It was a short walk to the hangar, but Vader preceded him at a much faster pace, and Luke lingered, taking in his last views of the ship. When he finally arrived, he saw his dad and the conspirators standing at Yahoo’s entry, queued up like they were waiting for—

Oh.

A large contingent of the 501st was there too, lining both sides of the deck, leaving a narrow passage for him to walk. Luke pulled himself up as straight as possible, feeling his cheeks flush as he strode across the distance that seemed to stretch forever.

_I’m not going to cry!_

_I know,_ Vader answered, with more certainty than Luke felt.

When he reached the officers, he stopped and inclined his head to acknowledge them, his gaze not lifting until he reached Vader. His father would understand when he listened to the tape Luke left, but he wasn’t sure, right at this moment, how to show his father that he would always be here for him.

Then, instinctively, he knew.

He clenched his right first and thumped it on his chest, against his heart, the most honored salute he could make. Darth Vader didn’t hesitate; he responded with the same gesture, and they remained still for long seconds before the Sith nodded and they both lowered their hands.

Luke was thankful for the hood that hid most of his face, because it was all that disguised the tears that filled his eyes. He walked up Yahoo’s ramp and didn’t dare look back, but his heart opened—

 _I love you, Luke,_ the Dark Lord Sent.

 _Well… I know._ He smiled.

# # #

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we want to know what Luke's message says and how Vader reacts. NOW POSTED:  
> [The Truth Interludes, Chapter 10: In Vino Veritas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578542/chapters/65793190)
> 
> “The Truth” continues with Part 11. Luke returns to his Rebel friends, but Vader is always with him. It’s nice to have your dad around to lend helpful advice...right?


End file.
